Anthropos Polytropos
by Memory Dragon
Summary: He doesn't remember much from before he woke up, but he does know two things. He doesn't like being called Tony Stark, and he hates Captain America.
1. Prologue: Sing to me of the man, Muse

Anthropos Polytropos  
By: Memory Dragon  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.  
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amora the Enchantress, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan.  
Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest.  
Rating: I think I'm just going to leave this at an M due to how dark it gets and some of the themes.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin to finally getting around to betaing this. Even if it did take her a while and there's still another fic waiting for you in your inbox. I'll forgive you this once since you're busy graduating and making us proud.

Notes: So hey, I managed to get this out before May 4th. Just barely by a few hours, but it's totally still morning in the states anyway. I do have a few notes about this sucker.

First, this fic is long. It's over 57k at the moment, provided Nar doesn't make me cut it down more, and in eight parts. It is completely finished, aside from some betaing, so if all goes well I should update once a week. Though I may move my update day from Friday to Monday since that may end up being easier on me in the long run. Even if I don't make my once a week deadline though (I have accidentally forgotten to update in the past, and Nar is a busy person), I promise you this fic will be completed. I didn't write 57k just to let it sit on my hard drive after all, even if it is all completely jossed by Iron Man 3.

Second, I'm afraid I've once again failed at slash. I do think I've put Steve and Tony in a fairly satisfying relationship of some sort, be it friendship or something more, by the end of the fic though, so don't write me off just because I'm a gen writer. I know how you slashers' minds usually work. Give it a chance, even if there aren't any make out sessions. What I lack in UST, I make up for with ridiculous amounts of cuddles and subtext.

Third, pay attention to the warnings (and do let me know if I've left anything out, because it's a long fic and I can't help but feel I've forgotten something). As stated, all character deaths are temporary, but this does get to be a bit of an Avengers Hamlet for a while. I don't even have a Horatio to be left alive at the end.

Finally, I've revisited the amnesia trope with this fic, because really, I do love amnesia fics. While Tony doesn't have his memories, he does have a strange knack for quoting literature that is eventually explained. There are also a lot of other strange things that take a while for explanations to come, but I promise there is some sort of method to the madness. At least, if there isn't, I should hope Nar will point it out to me before I post more...

Without further ado, I'll let you guys get started reading if I haven't scared you away yet.

* * *

**Prologue: Sing to me of the man, Muse...**

* * *

He woke with a start to complete darkness. And complete darkness? Totally panic inducing for reasons he couldn't fathom. Thankfully it only lasted a few seconds before a pale blue light started to shine. It appeared to be coming from his chest, though the effect was subdued by the long-sleeved black shirt he was wearing.

Taking a moment to breathe in relief at the light source, he looked around, trying to take in what little he could with the pale light. At first, the darkness was absolute, but slowly the shadows gave way to a large open room with a wooden desk in the corner. There was a meticulously made bed next to it that he couldn't help but want to mess up, but those were the only two things in the room. That, and an unseen light source that he couldn't find, because there was no way he should be able to see all of that from just the light in his chest.

"Empty, huh?" he said, starting at the sound of his own voice. Was that what he sounded like? He tried to think about what he knew, which... Wow. Really not much.

Come to think of it, he didn't even know his name. He couldn't get over the feeling that this was an improvement.

Shaking his head, he stood up slowly and walked over to the desk. The drawers were just as empty as the room, but the wood smell was comforting. Reassuring. He couldn't place it, though he felt like he should be able to. Oak? Cedar? Maple? It was annoying, but he couldn't remember what they all smelled like in comparison to this desk. For now though, he let the smell soothe some of the panic and annoyance.

He looked over at the bed, but it looked just as blank as the desk and without the smell of whatever kind of wood this was.

Ignoring the chair, he sat down next to the desk and ran his hands along the grain of the wood. It was good quality, very well made, though he couldn't tell how he knew that. And along the grain on the bottom was a hidden catch.

Surprised, he ducked under the desk to get a better look. He found the catch easily enough now that he was looking, and opened it carefully. As he slid the panel down, he was startled to see a face staring back at him. He jumped back, bumping his head against the desk.

Cursing, he looked back at the sliding panel. "Hello," he said cautiously. "Look, I know you're there and I wouldn't want to meet me either, but if you're going to - Oh." He caught sight of the man again. Except this time the man's lips were moving exactly in time with his words. He peered at himself. "Okay, so I'm pretty hot. Good to know. Thanks, mirror. That's enlightening."

He traced the goatee along his jaw line, taking in his tired brown eyes and dark hair in the pale blue light. Definitely hot. He was quite sure he'd go to bed with a face like that. Or would, if he didn't feel slightly queasy looking at himself.

"Guess I don't like myself that much. I'm learning so much about me," he groused. "And I'm sarcastic too." At that he perked up a little. "Maybe I'm not a complete loser."

Staring at his own face was disquieting though, and in the blue light coming from his chest, it was easy to imagine his face falling into the shadows and turning more sinister. Ignoring it, he lifted up his shirt to see the light more clearly.

He stared at the metal circle in his chest, then looked at it through the mirror. It was beautiful. He traced a finger around the edge of it, pressing in and noting the pressure it placed on his chest. The light dimmed under his fingers, but it didn't go out. There was a catch along the bottom that he knew would only respond to his bio-signature and maybe a couple other people? He didn't know for sure, but that felt right. He pressed the button, surprised to find that the circle came out. The light was still just as bright when he took it out of his chest... which was suddenly hurting a lot more than it should. With a gasp, he shoved the machine back in and slid the catch to cover the mirror as fear washed over him.

"Not... not doing that again. Definitely not. I... Okay, it keeps me alive. Good to know," he babbled as he leaned against the comfort of the solid wood. He stayed under the desk for a while, classifying what little he knew about himself in an attempt to calm down.

One: Pleasant voice, one that he liked listening to, so he supposed he was a bit full of himself. Two: He was a handsome S.O.B., but he didn't _like_ the look of himself, so hey, full of himself with issues. Three: Sarcastic, which was his one redeeming feature so far. That probably said something about himself that he really didn't want to think about too closely. Four A: He had a big, invasive machine in his chest that kept away the pain, possibly keeping him alive. Four B: He was terrified of taking it out.

"At least I'm getting to know myself," he said as his heartbeat slowed to an acceptable rate. Then he frowned. " I don't want to get to know myself. Huh. Another thing to file under Issues. Actually, make that a new bullet. Five: He doesn't like himself."

He could go check out the bed, he supposed. But he was surprisingly comfortable here, surrounded by the smell of wood (whatever kind it was) and hidden by the desk. So he stayed, curled up on the ground as he rested his head against the wood. Six: He was cowardly enough to hide under a desk rather than try to discover more about himself. Yeah, he really didn't care what that said about him.

He didn't know how long he sat under the desk, hiding from the rest of the world. It may have been half an hour, or it may have been half a day. He was contemplating taking out the machine again and swallowing down his fear to study it properly. He wanted to see how deep the hole in his chest went and if he could figure out how it worked or understand what it did. Maybe then he would know why it was in his chest.

Just before he could brace himself to pull it out again, a green light caught his attention. "I know you are here," a sultry voice said. "Show yourself, mortal."

Seven: He had women with odd accents looking for him. He poked his head out from under the desk to see a woman with long blond hair and a green fire flickering in her hand. She wore a green bustier and a short skirt, with green and black boots that went to her thigh. He quickly amended number Seven: He had sexy women obsessed with green who spoke with odd accents looking for him. "Just hiding under a desk," he said by way of greeting. "Like hiding under the bed, but more spacious. More hidden catches too. Plus, it smells nice. What can I do for you, sweet pea?"

"You can start by coming out to greet your Goddess," the woman commanded. He bristled at the command, but stood up, stretching his legs and arms. They should have felt cramped and sore from curling up under the desk for so long. At least, he'd assumed they would. He didn't hurt anywhere though, and he mentally debated if that was worth becoming number Eight. More testing required.

"So, you're my goddess," he said, taking time to appreciate her curves. "I could get behind that. Literally." Eight: He likes to flirt. "'_I grant I never saw a goddess go_' and all that, but you apparently do tread on the ground. Or something like that."

"Anthony Edward Stark, you mortals never change," she said.

He disliked the name as soon as he heard it. So great were his feelings toward the name, that it took him a moment to realize she was addressing him. Nine: He was named Anthony Stark. Revision to Five B: He hated the name too. Subfiled under Issues.

"So that's my name?" he asked for lack of a better response. "Know anything else about me, Honey Bee?"

"I know a great many things about you," the goddess purred. She walked over to him, her hips swaying as she pressed up against him and traced his jaw. "Would you like me to tell you?"

Revision to point Eight: He likes to flirt. A lot. Probably a lot more than just flirting too. "Actually, I'd rather talk about you. Are you the Calypso to my Odysseus? Cause I don't mind being your captive for a while." He didn't stop to think where he was getting those names from, because, hello, that was a nice chest she was pressing against him.

"Business before pleasure, mortal," the woman said.

Anthony sighed and-No, wait. That was a terrible name and he hated it. He definitely wasn't going to use it. Just no-He sighed and pushed away from her. "Right. So what epic quest do you have for me? That's how these things go, right? Dragons to slay, monsters to vanquish, sex at the end..."

The woman smiled, caressing his cheek in a familiar manner that set him on edge. He couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly, but something about her was off. "You are one of my most devout followers," the woman said as she stepped back and placed a hand on her hip. It drew his attention to her hips, which was quite a nice view, edgy-feeling or not. "I am here to honor you with a quest. If you succeed, I'll let you serve me personally. It is a high honor for a Midgardian such as you."

"Oh, goody. Can't wait," he said, keeping the sarcasm out of his voice at the last second in favor of curiosity. "And what does this quest entail?"

"There is another god, the Thunderer. We were lovers once, but he scorned me and turned to a darker path." In the woman's hands, she held aloft a green cloud that reshaped to a picture of a broad-shouldered man with a beard. Not that he was envious of the beard, because his own Van Dyke was much cooler, but he approved of the facial hair. The cape was a bit much though. Unfortunately, he only noticed that after five seconds of staring at some fantastic biceps. Damn.

"He has since fallen in with a wicked crowd that wishes to subjugate all of Midgard," she continued. "You must defeat him and kill his allies. Once he is defeated, I can clear his mind of the evil influence that has taken hold of him and return him to the gentle lover he was."

That probably meant thank-you sex was off the table for him. Ah, well. The woman apparently wasn't finished with her exposition though. "His allies are-"

He reached out, sending the picture spiraling out of control as it faded to mist. He didn't feel anything as his hand passed through it. There was no heat or moisture from the cloud. Huh.

The goddess was furious though. Oops.

"You would do well to-" she snapped.

"Sorry, but I don't think so," he said. He smiled, the expression sitting oddly on his face as though it were practiced. Ten: His smiles weren't very genuine. "You're going to have to find someone else to tell your sob story to, which, by the way, sounds completely bogus. You might want to work on motive more."

"You _dare_ turn down my offer?" she asked, fury coursing through her body as her hands tightened to fists. "I am your Goddess, Amora the Enchantress. You will obey my commands!"

"Yeah, that doesn't sound like me. Does that sound like me?" He paused for a moment, considering. Eleven: Does not follow orders. "Nope, sorry. Commands and I don't mix. And you are definitely hot, but I don't think you're a goddess. At least not mine. Twelve: No major faith. Well, that's interesting."

"You will regret scorning my help, mortal!"

"Really? 'Cause I'm not regretting it right now," he said, adding low self-preservation instincts as Thirteen. Pissing her off was probably not the brightest thing he's ever done. "Okay, the lack of sex I'll be getting is a downer, I regret that. But turning you down? Not so much."

She visibly reigned in her temper, her body language sliding back into seductive. She touched the arc reactor and he jumped back at the shock, glaring at her. "What did you do?"

"We'll see how you feel after you've been through this place. Find me again on the other side of the Shadows before the end of two days. If you do not, your life will be forfeit."

"You really don't like not getting-" The green cloud returned, quickly forming a ring over her head and moving down. She disappeared as the ring went down. "-your way. Probably better ways I could have started my existence with than pissing off a goddess. I hate magic. Oh, Fourteen!"

Two days. He touched the reactor to make sure it was safe, then glanced at the door 'the Enchantress' had come through. He hadn't seen it earlier, but he'd also been far more focused on the desk. He touched the doorknob and felt a chill run down his spine. Pulling his hand back as if he'd been shocked, he half expected it to come alive and start talking to him. "Do doorknobs talk? Or was it door knockers?" he muttered, backing away from the door.

"Two options then," he said. "Explore, or fall back on number Six." Two days to get there, that's what Amora said. On the other side of the Shadows... "Yeah, hiding under the desk still sounds good."

The bed also looked comforting, but the desk had more room to hide. Hiding from himself, the world, Amora... He was hardly going to die just sitting here, right?

He went through the drawers again, surprised this time to find a few wires, a pocket watch, a cell phone with a full battery but no signal or contacts, a screwdriver, a sleek tablet with nothing more than a grey background, and a few odds and ends that he could conceivably pull apart and make something out of. He gathered all of his findings together and sat under the desk. Using the light from his chest, he started to take them apart, though he wasn't entirely sure why. His hands moved as if they had a life of their own, rearranging the battery and pieces to a configuration that looked right. A taser. Had he been threatened by one in the past? It felt like it, but for some reason the machine in his hands felt comforting, even if a bit of sorrow tinted the feeling. Absently, he noted, "Fifteen: Working with electronics is soothing."

He half expected someone to come and find him under the desk, though he couldn't have said whom. Not goddess-girl, but someone warm. Someone he trusted.

He laughed at that thought, because Sixteen: He didn't trust anyone. Especially not himself.

While he was expecting someone to show up, he wasn't expecting that a man would come crashing through the wall closely followed by a giant serpent with four heads. Really, you'd have to be psychic to predict - Wait. He really didn't have time to ramble in his head when there was an angry giant serpent with legs running around.

He looked down at the pile of parts in his hands and concluded that it wasn't ready yet. A sharp cry from the man told him that he didn't have time to finish it. He grabbed the main section of the taser, leaving the batteries. Then he poked his head out to see a red, white, and blue rounded blur cutting through one of the long necks on the serpent. A few seconds later, two heads replaced it. Hydra, his mind supplied, though he couldn't have said how he knew that when he hadn't even known his own name. Fucking Hydra.

No fire to cauterize the necks, but hopefully an electric charge would kill the whole thing. But no time to strip the batteries...

It took him less than three seconds to consider the alternative power source before coming to the conclusion that number Four was over ruled by lucky number Thirteen's low self-preservation. He took out the metal object in his chest and connected it to the device he'd made. Ignoring the pain, he ran forward as a loud clatter rang through the room. The overgrown lizard was focused on the man slumping against the wall, so all he had to do was get close enough to the creature's heart.

In retrospect, he really should have paid more attention to the tail. A casual sweep of it knocked him flat on the ground. The pounding in his chest was growing increasingly more erratic as he tried to sit up. It _hurt_.

He didn't think he could get up again, but he had to... So much for getting close to its heart. Giving that plan up, he ignored the pain in his chest and waited for the tail to brush by him again. Then he connected the power source from his chest to the mini-taser he'd built and touched it to the Hydra's tail.

The last thing he heard before he was knocked out against the wall was its screams.

* * *

~TBC~

* * *

Mem: Does it surprise anyone that I added cliff hangers? Seriously, I considered just sitting on this until a big bang came along to at least get some art out of it, but then I realized I couldn't use my cliff hangers. And I do so love my cliff hangers. Anyway, lots of Cap in the next chapter, and lots more numbers for Tony to learn about himself. I apologize for the probably crappy Amora dialogue. I'm basing her entirely over the cartoon and I didn't have a lot of time to go over her episodes and brush up on her voice before the move to China, sadly. And yes, I'm totally showing my obsession with the classical era in this fic... or at least Homer.

Anyway, have a quote of the chapter:

"Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns  
driven time and again off course, once he had plundered  
the hallowed heights of Troy."  
-Homer, _The Odyssey_. Translated by Robert Fagles.


	2. A man of many twists and turns

Anthropos Polytropos  
By: Memory Dragon  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.  
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amora the Enchantress, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan.  
Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest. If you have any questions about the warnings, I'd be more than happy to clarify as best I can.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin for the beta. Also, many thanks to keroseneSteve and kerravon for being the only two people across lj, AO3, and who decided it was worth commenting on. I do appreciate the comments, and kudos people have left.  
Notes: So, hey, it looks like China has stopped blocking lj again. Yay for that. Anyway, this chapter has way more Captain America, and some of the PTSD trigger warnings. I was honestly wondering if Tony's panicking in this chapter was a bit too much... and then I saw Iron Man 3 and realized I probably could have gotten away with more. So yay for that too! Also, the next chapter may be posted on Monday instead, because Fridays tend to be more hectic.

* * *

**Chapter One: A man of many twists and turns**

* * *

"Stark! Stark, wake up! Stark, come on..."

No. Waking up was a terrible idea. That meant more pain. At least, that's how these things usually went for him, though he couldn't have said how he knew that was a thing. Seventeen: Waking up after doing something phenomenally stupid usually brings pain, and this is not an uncommon occurrence for him.

He felt a pair of warm lips pressing forcefully against his, forcing air into his mouth. Next hands on his chest, which froze after a light touch. There was a small, helpless noise. "God, the arc reactor. How do I... Please, God. Tony you have to wake up."

It only took one uncertain compression before he started to gasp for breath, though he doubted it was the compression itself that started him breathing again. Something about this place was weird. Once he had air in his lungs, the coughing started. "Oh, thank God," he heard the voice saying over the ringing of his ears.

He should be in a lot more pain than this. Not to mention the fact that his thoughts were remarkably coherent, which shouldn't be possible. Remembering his earlier thoughts of how sore his body should have been and the sudden breathing, he decided he had enough evidence to make a point. "Eighteen: Body acting strangely," he said once the coughing died down. "Who kissed me?"

He heard a choked laugh, but before he managed to lift his eyes to see who it was, a strong pair of arms pulled him forward into a tight hug.

That was kind of nice. He looked over the blue clad shoulder to see blond hair, but all other observations were cut short when he felt the other man trembling against him. "Hey, kid," he said, awkwardly patting him. "It's okay. I'm fine."

"I thought I couldn't do anything. That I could just watch again. I was helpless," the kid said, his accent getting thicker as the kid pressed further against his neck. "Tony..."

Tony, huh? It was a better name than Anthony Stark, but not by much. Still, he felt a bit lost without any name, so Tony would work for now. That didn't mean he had to take it from anyone else though, but he could get on to the kid once he'd calmed down more.

Speaking of, the kid froze against him before pushing back so Tony could finally get a look at him. Not bad looking under the mask, and not exactly a kid either. Nice blue eyes. "Sorry," the kid said, sounding strained. He closed those blue eyes for a moment to take a deep breath. "I... Thor said it'd be harder to conceal emotions here, but I didn't realize how... Your reactor kept flickering."

The kid snapped his mouth shut as Tony looked down at the power source in his chest. Arc reactor. It was glowing steadily, though it looked a little paler than before. His chest felt... Not exactly fine, but the erratic thumping of his heart was calming down. It didn't even hurt where the kid had tried the chest compression.

"Huh," he said, looking back up. This time, he took in more of the kid's odd outfit. Some sort of blue costume with red gloves? And a white star on his chest...

Tony's body went rigid as he stared at the star. Anger. Resentment. Hatred. The force of the emotions shocked him, but he didn't look away. "Who are you?" Tony demanded, his voice tightly controlled.

"Ton-Stark?" The kid looked confused, and he reached out to touch Tony's arm.

Tony jerked away. "Don't call me that. Who the hell are you?" he snarled, taking a small amount of pleasure in the hurt look that crossed the kid's face. He should know this. He knew the Hydra, and the outfit felt familiar, like an old wound that festered for ages.

Worry replaced the fear in the kid's eyes. "I'm Steve. Steve Rogers. You should know who I am, Star - I mean, Tony."

Tony made a mock buzzer sound, putting more physical distance between them. He glanced around, but didn't see the body of the giant lizard thing. Well, that's disturbing. "Also wrong. Don't call me that either. And you're not..." He paused, narrowing his eyes. "You're Captain America."

"Yeah," the kid said, frowning now. "Tony, are you-"

"Not Tony," Tony said. And yes, he knew how hypocritical it was to use the name in his own mind. Nineteen: He was not above being petty and hypocritical. "Not Anthony. And definitely not Stark. I don't like any of those names, they're not me."

Captain America blinked a few times, then shook his head. "If you're not Tony Stark, then who are you?"

"Dunno," Tony said, standing and brushing himself off. Captain Amer - okay, no. Way too long. Cap/Spangles/Embodiment of Patriotism/Stars'n'Stripes/Uncle Sam. Cap for now.

"Okay," Cap said slowly. "You know me as Captain America. Do you remember anything else?"

"Nope." Tony looked around again, this time in his immediate area. His makeshift taser was on the floor in a few pieces, the wires that had been connected to the reactor a little worse for wear. It made something twist in his gut, like losing an old friend.

Tony turned one of his smiles on Cap, keeping his voice cheerful. "But I know I don't like you. Twenty. Don't like Captain Spangles at all. So thanks for reconnecting this..." He tapped the reactor under his shirt, feeling a little self-conscious that Cap must have seen the scars surrounding it when he reattached it. "...but I'd appreciate it if you left now. Later."

He picked up the pieces and eyed them critically. Might work again, if there were a few more wires under the desk and he got the battery case open. Ignoring the open hurt in Cap's blue eyes, he walked back to the desk and ducked under it. He was perfectly happy to stay there until Cap left. Sitting cross-legged, Tony sat down and started picking through his collection of odds and ends to find a new wire that was long enough.

Tony had assumed Cap had left through the hole in the wall that he'd come through. Because while Tony had no idea who he was waiting for, he knew it wasn't Captain America. Cap didn't have the same connotations as the oak and bed did, and for some reason Tony couldn't push away the feeling that he _was_ waiting for someone. Someone who was supposed to find him. Someone who would help.

Assumptions, he found, led to mistakes. More data was needed on Cap, because he'd barely gotten the battery cover off when his bulky shoulders blocked Tony's exit, and he ignored Tony's glare. "That's what you used to get rid of the Hydra, isn't it?"

"These batteries wouldn't have had the power required," Tony murmured, wondering if Cap would go away if he ignored him long enough.

"You still shouldn't have used the arc reactor," Oh, Cap's disapproval. That felt familiar. Tony bristled at his tone and at being boxed in under the desk, but proceeded with the hypothesis that ignoring Cap would make him go away.

Cap sighed. "Stark, that was dang-"

"Not Stark," Tony snapped, abandoning the experiment. "Not Tony, and definitely not Stark. I said that. I definitely told you that before, Spangles. I thought the super-soldier serum was supposed to make you smarter, or did all that muscle force out what little brains you had before?"

Cap flushed and his hands fisted, but Tony was back to ignoring him. Being a dick and then ignoring Cap, and still he wouldn't go away. His shoulders felt stiff, but rolling them didn't help the tension. Fine then. He didn't need to be relaxed anyway. He just needed to finish connecting the battery so he could get a proper charge.

Finally, he heard Cap take a deep breath before speaking again. Whatever he was saying earlier about emotions in this place, he seemed to have a firm grip on his temper now. "What do you want to be called then?"

Tony looked up at that, feeling a little lost. He clung to the name Tony because it was all he had. That didn't mean he liked it. Besides, he wasn't that person, not really. He had Tony's feelings, but none of the memories to go with it. It wasn't fair. He wanted a blank slate if he was going to be forced to forget everything.

"I don't know," he said finally, looking back down at the items he'd collected. Oh, hell no. His voice did not just waver like that. He pushed forward, ignoring the break in his voice (what was it Cap said? Harder to hide emotions in this place. Fuck that.) and the fact he wanted Cap to get out of the way. "Nobody. Nobody works. Nobody you need to bother with. I don't want you calling me anything, so - Don't!"

Tony jerked away as Cap touched his shoulder, knocking it against the wood panel in his attempt to get away.

Cap immediately withdrew his hand, holding it up in a motion of surrender. "I'm sorry," he said, making a visible effort to appear non-threatening. "Can you tell me why you're afraid?"

"I'm not-"

"Jumpy, then," Cap cut in, realizing his mistake. "What's making you so tense?"

"You're in the way," Tony blurted out, clamping his mouth shut to avoid revealing any more, but the strain was getting to him.

"In the way?" Cap looked around, a surprised expression on his face. Then he moved a foot back and a little off to the side. He was still _there_, which was annoying, and in plain view so that Tony couldn't just go to work and forget he existed. But he was no longer caging Tony in, and suddenly it was so much easier to breathe. The tension in his body slowly slipped away.

"Is that better?" Cap asked after a few moments of silence.

"It'd be better if you went away," Tony replied, but it lacked any real heat to it. He went back to putting together his little weapon, pointedly not looking back up at Captain America. Finally, he pushed the battery forward, smiling at the arc of electricity that spiked from it. He pulled the battery back, not wanting to waste the charge.

"How much do you remember?" Cap asked once Tony had set the taser aside to contemplate the remaining parts.

Tony debated the pros and cons of continuing his earlier experiment in ignoring Cap, but he was beginning to come to the conclusion that Cap was too stubborn to leave. He sighed. "I woke up over by the Hydra, found the desk and bed. A hot blond in go-go boots came in claiming to be a goddess who needed my help. When I refused to fight her ex, she said if I didn't find her again in two days, I'd be dead. She left off in a snit, and I made a taser. Then you crashed the party." He recounted the story with a few hand motions, only pausing to glare at the wood when he gestured a little too much and knocked his hand. "That's all."

"The Enchantress was here?" Cap sounded worried, but not surprised. "And she said you'll die in two days. Why were you sitting here instead of looking for her then?"

"Why do you care?" Tony asked, carefully keeping his tone blasé instead of defensive.

If Tony could remember what a kicked puppy looked like, he was quite sure the expression fit Captain America after that question. At least, it was the first phrase that came to mind, even if images of puppies were currently lacking. "Because you're one of my teammates," he said quietly. "And I don't have many people left to lose."

Tony tilted his head as he considered the Captain. Twenty-one: On a team with Cap. And that felt like a fairly big admission, but it was hard to find sympathy for Cap. He wished he knew why. "So you want to save me, Stars and Stripes?"

"I want to help," Cap said, wisely side-stepping that trap. "Please let me."

"Fine," Tony said dismissively, putting together a few bits of the phone just to look busy. "You want to help? Go find What's Her Name and bring her here."

"I don't think it works like that, To-" A glare from Tony cut him off. Cap sighed before continuing. "I think you have to come with me."

"Can't," Tony said, his eyes on the parts. "Busy. So sorry. You'll have to go on this quest alone. The sooner you leave, the better."

"_Tony_," Cap said, exasperation mixing with frustration in his voice. No amount of glaring from Tony at the name made Cap back down this time. "You'll die if you just sit here and do nothing!"

"No, I'll die if _you_ sit here and bother me for two days."

Cap made a noise that sounded both furious and impatient. "Are you really that self-centered that you can't even be bothered to save yourself?"

_Asshole_. Tony kept that thought to himself as his shoulders hunched over, afraid his voice might betray the hurt that punched through him. It was a lost cause though, because when he glanced up as Cap sucked in a breath, he saw guilt clinging to the edges of Cap's eyes. "Sorry. That was uncalled for. Why don't you come out from under this desk?" Cap's voice was back to being gentle, as if he were talking to a frightened animal.

Tony shook his head, pressing against the back side of the desk like Cap might pull him out. "Can't. I'm not - There's someone coming. Someone important. If I go out there, I'll learn more about Tony, and I don't want to. And if I leave, they won't find me."

Cap hesitated, parsing through the information Tony had given him with a strangely sad expression. "You don't want to know about-" he cut himself off quickly with a glance at Tony, as if he expected to be yelled at again. Tony looked back down at his half-assembled phone. "Who are you waiting for?" Cap asked after a moment, picking the safer topic.

Except the question brought back all the insecurities of having no memories. "I don't know," he said miserably, his hand curling tightly around the phone's frame. He wished he knew.

"Hey," Cap said, sliding beside Tony before he had a chance to panic. His body language was open and unassuming, and he made sure Tony had a route of escape by folding his legs up. It was cramped with the two of them there (Cap technically didn't even fit, sticking out from the hiding place like the giant oaf he was), but this time he only felt annoyed rather than tense. "Is this okay?" Cap asked.

Tony closed his eyes, leaning against the wood and resisting the urge to curl up into a ball. "Why are you still here?" he asked, honestly baffled.

Cap was silent for a moment. "Because ever since I woke up in this century, I've been alone," he said finally. "And it's not a feeling I like. It's not something I'd wish on anyone else either."

"So what? You're just going to sit here with me for two days?" Seriously, how was this kid real? Why would anyone put up with him for that long?

"If I have to," Cap said after he swallowed. Tony could almost hear his heart breaking in his voice as he spoke. "But I'd prefer it if we went to Amora, so you don't have to die."

"I have to wait for-"

"Someone that important would want you to try looking for her," Cap insisted. "They would understand. Maybe we can even find them while we're looking for Amora."

Tony opened his eyes, but didn't look over at Cap. He picked up the taser and fiddled with the wires. "Tony, please..."

Whatever the arc reactor was made out of, it wasn't stone. If it was, he might have been able to stand up against the earnest expression Cap was giving him. Hundreds of kicked puppies all in one spot and looking up at him pathetically would have been easier to face. Tony was really beginning to see why he hated the guy. "Fine," Tony said, shoving the taser into his pocket. "Let's just go. Adventuring, great. I'll just... It'll be like a road trip. An odyssey. '_Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns._' Yeah, that sounds right. Doesn't that sound-"

"_Tony_." Still exasperated, but this time with amusement rather than frustration.

"Stop calling me that," Tony snapped, putting his hands flat against the floor to hide the fact they were trembling. "That's now a condition of me coming on this trip: You can't call me that. No Tonys, Anthonys, or Starks allowed. I mean that. Call me Nobody, or Odysseus, or honey cake, or whatever, but no-"

"Thank you for coming with me." Tony jumped as he felt the hand on his shoulder. He didn't know if he liked the hand there, or if he should pull away or...

"It's going to be okay. I promise. We're all here to help, so it'll be alright. Tony-"

"Don't call me that," Tony snapped out of habit when he came out of his panic. He heard Cap let out a laugh of relief, squeezing Tony's arm just a little too hard before backing off. Oh. Apparently he'd zoned out while having a minor panic attack. Okay, this needed to stop happening. "Right, let's just... get going then," Tony said, his voice _not_ wobbly. At all. Maybe a little, but if Cap wasn't going to mention it, it didn't happen.

Cap squeezed his arm once more before shuffling out of the small space. Tony took one more deep breath of the familiar wood before crawling out himself. He looked back nervously at the desk, reaching out to touch the wood one last time. "We'll find them, won't we? They always find me here and..." And he didn't know. It was terrifying, not knowing who he was waiting for or why when the compulsion to stay was so strong.

"You can leave a note," Cap said. He started to open the drawers, rummaging through them. "There should be paper or pens in here some-here!"

He pulled out a pad of paper and a pen that obviously hadn't been in there the first or second time Tony has searched the desk. He didn't care though, because the thought of leaving a note sent a rush of relief through him.

But as Cap held the notepad out, Tony shied away. He nearly tripped over the long forgotten chair in his haste to retreat, barely righting himself before he completely fell to the floor.

"Ton- Are you alright?" Cap asked.

Tony ignored the concern he saw in order to brush himself off non-nonchalantly. "Right, could you just - Maybe put the pad on the desk. Pen too. Great. Now back away. Sorry. Is that a thing for me? Apparently it is. Twenty-two: He does not like to be handed things."

Cap looked worried, but did as he was asked. With Cap out of the way, Tony wrote a quick note. '_Hey, sorry for not waiting, but we had to go stop me from dying. We're headed to the edge of the shadows if you want to catch up._'

Tony paused on the last line, body hunching over again. "I don't... How do I sign this?" Obviously with Tony, but he wasn't Tony. Tony had memories. He only had Tony's feelings.

"Why not sign it 'me'? I've seen you leave a few notes to Dr. Banner or Ms. Potts like that," Cap suggested.

That... actually didn't feel like a bad idea. There was a chance whoever it was that was supposed to find him wouldn't know who 'me' was, but it was better than nothing. He signed it with flourish, then tore off the top page, leaving it on top of the desk.

He didn't quite want to leave the paper and pen though. It felt awkward and bulky, but since he had taken apart the tablet and the cell phone and he might need something...

"You can take it with you," Cap said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah, that... that sounds good?" Tony got the feeling he didn't like paper very much, but with a lack of alternative, it would have to do. And Cap was nodding as he grabbed a round shield - Captain America's shield/vibranium/indestructible/he'd love to study it/still hated the wielder - and looked out the hole he had crashed through.

"There's a door to your left, Winghead," Tony said, putting the pen in his pocket and holding the pad of paper against his chest.

"I didn't see it," Cap admitted with a slight blush.

That made Tony feel better about missing it earlier, though that still didn't explain why the desk was empty when he first checked it. "I noticed," Tony said, hesitating at the door.

Okay, this really was pathetic. And with Captain America watching him, no less. His anger at the man never really went away, and here he was, showing weakness in front of someone he hated? Yeah, not happening.

Without further pause, Tony pushed open the door, feeling the heat of the sun on his face as he stepped through. Which was strange, since the hole Cap made was large enough to let the hot air in. Silently, he filed it away with the empty desk.

The source of the heat was a lush jungle, green and vibrant. He could hear birds and insects the moment he stepped through. Cap followed behind pulling his cowl back over his head, but if he noticed the irregularities, he didn't show it. Tony found himself wishing for a pair of sunglasses to shade his eyes. "Is that a tree house?"

"Yeah," Cap said with a small grin. It faded when Tony failed to return it. "It's where I found myself when I got here. Made me think of the Swiss Family Robinson."

"Or Robinson Crusoe. Where's your group of natives, Uncle Sam? Not patriotic enough for you?"

Cap's lips perked up again into a shy smile. Tony doubted even his best glare could dim it. "You're making a reference I get for once."

"Yeah, great. Glad you approve." Tony pushed through the foliage, wishing he could remember which references Cap would know so he could purposefully pick ones he didn't.

Tony heard Cap's sigh and made doubly sure not to look back and see the slightly hunched shoulders he somehow knew Cap would have. "Would you at least tell me what your problem is with me?" Cap asked, his voice pleading. "You seemed fine before you saw the uniform."

"Sorry, kid," Tony said with a shrug. "I have no idea. Ask Tony. He's got all the memories. I've just got all the feelings without any of the reasons." He paused, thinking about that for a moment. "Which really sucks, come to think of it. Twenty-three: He does not like feelings."

"So... you don't even know why you don't like me?"

Oh, God. He could _hear_ the kicked puppies. That wasn't fair. Tony should be safe from the kicked puppies so long as he didn't look over at Cap, but now all he felt was guilty. He rubbed his temples and wiped away some of the sweat that was starting to form on his brow, batting aside a leafy branch with more force than necessary. "No, I don't. I don't know why I didn't trust the blond bomb shell, why I hate you, why I wanted to stay under the desk, or even why I could make this." He pulled out the taser and waved it around. "I just... Your guess is as good as mine. I have no idea. And I didn't see you arguing against my mistrust of the Enchantress, so I'm guessing I feel this way for a pretty good reason."

He went still as Cap's hand touched his arm, but he didn't jerk away this time. He reviewed his last few sentences to realize he'd probably come off as a little pathetic. The look of guilt in Cap's eyes when he turned around confirmed it. Damn. "I'm sorry," Cap said. "I should have known better than to ask that. But..."

Cap broke off, looking away. But not before Tony saw the depth of... Tony didn't know what emotion it was, to be honest. Cap just looked lost as his hand fell back to his side. Lost and despairing all at once in a way that twisted Tony's stomach in knots. He might hate the guy, but for some reason he never wanted Cap to have that expression again. It was too lonely, which was something Cap didn't deserve to be. "But what?" Tony asked.

Cap stayed quiet for a moment more, though the noises of the jungle were just as loud. Louder now, it felt like, without anything to drown it out. Tony raised a hand, then lowered it, unsure of what to do. Cap kept touching him - for comfort? - but Tony had no idea if returning the sentiment would be appreciated or... Revision to Twenty-three: He hated emotions because he was terrible at them. "Cap?" he asked, a little desperately, raising his hand again. This time his fingers brushed against Cap's shoulder before he aborted the movement. "But what?"

Looking up finally, Cap's eyes closed as he tried to reign himself in. "Sorry. Thor was right. It's harder to..." he swallowed, then started again. "Harder to hide things here. Even from myself."

"You feel this way a lot?" Tony asked, wondering why he cared if Cap looked like that when he obviously didn't like the man.

"Yeah," Cap admitted softly, managing a weak smile. "I suppose I do."

That was surprisingly unacceptable. Completely, totally, and shockingly unacceptable. Except Tony had no idea how to fix it. That was just frustrating.

At least he could distract Cap though, then he could go back to properly hating him instead of feeling guilty all the time. "You were saying something before? But?"

Shaking his head as if to dispel the emotions, Cap smiled again. "But if you don't remember why you don't like me, could you at least give me a chance?"

Tony could easily see why he hated Cap. Because it was a Catch-22. If he said yes, he would actually have to try. If he said no, he'd be smothered in pitiful puppies. Not to mention he'd feel like an asshole, but that felt pretty par course for him. And unlike with Amora, Tony was willing to admit that his emotions towards Cap were more complicated than just a gut reaction that he was bad. "Right. I - Yeah, great. Trying sounds great. I make no promises, cause I'm apparently an asshole anyway. Twenty-four. But I can try? That sounds reasonable. Logical."

Cap looked bewildered by the sudden barrage of words, but he got the gist. He reached out to Tony's shoulder again, and smiled more sincerely this time as Tony tried not to fidget with the contact. "Thank you," he said simply, just as he'd thanked Tony for agreeing to try searching for Amora.

Okay, feelings. He was getting hives. He needed to get out of here like, five minutes ago. He turned and started walking again, not entirely sure where he was going. "Right, so this tree house. Anything worth seeing in it?"

"Not really," Cap said, keeping pace with Tony easily. He held up one of the heavier branches as they walked by. Tony followed the line of Cap's biceps and decided to revise items Eight and Twenty. He likes to flirt, probably with both sexes, though data was required with someone he didn't actively hate. And Twenty: He hated Captain America, but it was complicated. Facebook complicated. Except he couldn't remember exactly what Facebook was. He filed both Cap and Facebook under Issues for lack of a better idea.

"I wasn't there for long before the Hydra-" Cap winced as he mentioned the giant serpent, though Tony was at a loss for why, "-attacked me. I did see the sea to the east of us though, and it looked like there was a boat out there."

"Any shadows or big dark areas?" Tony asked.

"I don't think so?" Cap looked perplexed at the question. Tony gave it up as a lost cause.

"To the boat then. Ship. Whatever it is. A boat would probably do us good." He was babbling. Apparently, he babbled a lot. Did he put that on the list yet? A quick review turned up a no, so he made it Twenty-five.

They walked in silence for about ten minutes, which was almost intolerable. Tony's fingers twitched when he thought of the notepad, but they couldn't afford the time for him to sit there and draw. After a while, he started muttering to himself, calculations and drawing straight lines in his head. An engine, though he didn't know for what. It kept him from the awful silence though, because bird song totally didn't cut it and talking to Cap would probably only get him in trouble.

It took them fifteen more minutes of walking through the heat and humidity before they reached the edge of the trees, and by that time Tony was hot, sticky, and distinctly not happy with the environment. But the grass was giving way to sand, and it wasn't long before they could see one of the clearest blues he'd ever seen. Even bluer than Cap's eyes. Wow.

"It's beautiful," Cap said beside him. For a brief moment, Tony was resentful. If he'd waited, he could have seen this with the person that he wanted to find him, not with Captain America.

Mentally, Tony sighed. Giving Cap a chance, remember? "Yeah," Tony said, toying with one of the edges of the notepad. Absently, he noted the sound of the waves and he had to keep himself from tensing up. Interesting.

"May I see that?" Cap said sharply.

Tony was so shocked by Cap's tone that he automatically clenched the notebook against his chest. "Why?"

Cap held up his hands in surrender, back to looking as non-threatening as a massively muscular man could with a shield. "I'm not going to take it from you. I just want to see it. The top page was blank when we left, right?"

Tony blinked, not sure what Cap was getting at. Though he did feel some of the tension slip from his shoulders at Cap's reassurance. Why was he so wound up in this place? "I left the note on the desk. The top page was blank." And considering he hadn't had time to sit down and draw out the designs, he hadn't even taken the pen out of his pocket.

"What's on it now, then?"

"There's nothing on it now," Tony snapped as he held it out as proof. "It's just a blank-"

As he glanced down, Tony saw that it wasn't, in fact, blank. The engine he'd been designing was drawn out on the page, simple and elegant, with the math written off to the side of in neat notations. Tony dropped the notepad, and jumped away from it. "How did it... That's the engine I designed. But it was in my head. I didn't have time - You saw me. I haven't-"

"Hey." Warm hands gripped his shoulders gently, and Tony looked up into concerned blue eyes. "It's okay. Thor said this world would be a little odd. That's just how this world works."

"That's not possible. None of this is possible," Tony said flatly. Not the items that kept appearing in the desk, or the jungle atmosphere staying outside of the original room he'd been in. Not even his body was reacting properly. And why did the ocean have to have so much _water_? "Where-"

"Agent Romanov said it'd be better if we didn't tell you where this is," Cap said, a look of unease crossing his features.

That snapped Tony out of his panic. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he took a step back, knocking Cap's hands away. "Where are we?" he asked, anger replacing the fear.

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you," Cap said, looking for all the world like he sincerely meant that apology. "We're here to help get you out, but I can't tell you where we are. Agent Romanov said it'd be dangerous if you found out."

"Is that so?" Tony said, sarcasm thick in his voice. "It's so nice to know how much you trust me, teammate." With that, he started to walk along the beach, ignoring the ship entirely as he searched for the shadows that Amora promised to be on the other side of.

"Tony, wait-"

"Not Tony!" he shouted back, not stopping. He ignored the waves on the beach, sticking close to the edge of the grass.

"-It's not that we don't trust you, but we're just trying to-"

A hand around his arm, turning him around. Tony pulled back, but they wouldn't let go. He wasn't strong enough and they could hold him down under the water for as long as they liked. "Don't! Let go!"

He was released immediately. Tony stumbled back, wobbling on his feet as he tried to regain his balance.

After a few seconds, he could make out Cap's voice. "-sorry. I didn't mean to. It's okay, Tony. It's just me. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. I'm so sorry..."

"What just..." Tony started to say, sitting down on the sand before his knees went out. His head felt fuzzy, like he was trying to keep his head above - No, don't think of water!

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" Cap asked hesitantly. Tony might have shaken his head, he didn't know, but he felt the warm bulk of a super-soldier slide down next to him. "I'll move slowly, but I'd like to hug you. Is that alright?" Again, he might have nodded, must have, because Cap was the sort of person to wait for permission for that. A warm arm pulled him gently against Cap's side. "Let me know if you want me to let go, and I will."

It was then Tony realized he was trembling.

That was completely unacceptable, no matter how nice Cap's hug felt. He still hated the guy, for one. And he shouldn't be showing this much fear in front of him. That was just embarrassing. Unfortunately, his body didn't listen to his commands very well.

It was another minute before he could speak, and Tony was almost exasperated with his traitor of a body that was leaning into Cap. "What was that?" he asked. He swallowed, and tried to make his voice stronger. "What... Why did I react like that?"

"I don't know," Cap answered. "It was probably shell shock, but you've never talked about it before. You're never usually this jumpy either. I didn't even realize you had it."

Shell shock. There was a different word for it now, if he just _didn't_ think about it too hard... "PTSD?" Oh, look. His voice sounded so much better now.

"Yeah, I think that's what they call it now." Cap was rubbing soothing circles on his arm as he spoke, and Tony finally pushed away so he could sit by himself. For a brief moment, Cap refused to let go. Then a guilty look crossed his face and he let go immediately.

Huh. He never thought Captain America would be the clingy sort. Twenty-six: Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. A, he would refuse to admit he had it, but the evidence was pretty damning and there was no point in denial in this place. B, it sucked. "Why do I have it? No, wait. You said I don't talk about it. Twenty-six C. I'm not Tony, so why do I have all of his baggage? That's... that's seriously not cool. I don't even know what triggers it. Or why. Well, water, but-"

"Just calm down," Cap interrupted.

Oh. Panicking again. Tony took a deep breath, trying to regain his shaky control. "I hate this place," Tony said as he closed his eyes.

"That's why we're here, to get you out of it," Cap reassured him. "I promise. We'll get you out of here."

"We?" Cap said that before, but Tony had filed it away as currently unimportant. Right now he could use the distraction though.

"The other Avengers. Your friends. We just want to-"

That was when the arrow landed a few feet in front of them, digging into the sand.

* * *

~TBC~

* * *

Memory: Well, that probably outed me as a Classics minor. Then again, I probably did that already with History Lessons. As epic an Odyssey fusion would have been (actually, someone please write an Odyssey Avengers fusion. I'd read the heck of out that), this fic doesn't really mirror it too much. Though, considering the warnings, I don't feel bad at all using this quote as foreshadowing...

Quote of the chapter: (continuation of the last quote)

"Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds,  
many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea,  
fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home.  
But he could not save them from disaster, hard as he strove..."  
-Homer, _The Odyssey_. Translated by Robert Fagles.

Also, in case you were wondering, anthropos polytropos means the man of twists and turns. It's a description for Odysseus, and I think it fits Tony quite well too.


	3. To the last, I grapple with thee

Anthropos Polytropos  
By: Memory Dragon  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.  
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amora the Enchantress, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan.  
Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Implied bullying. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest. If you have any questions about the warnings, I'd be more than happy to clarify as best I can.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin, who stayed up to help me fix my numbers problem. Because yeah, the numbers were the clusterfuck I thought they would be when I started writing this. -_-  
Notes: First of all, the warnings have been updated. Chleom's comment made me realize I'd forgotten implied bullying, so please take note of that if it's one of your triggers. I knew I'd forgotten one. I really do apologize for not having that in there earlier. Second, I'm pretty sure my numbers got mixed up. We blame Tony entirely, because both my beta and I are English majors who are no good with numbers, and therefore it's all Tony's fault. Still, it _should_ be fixed now. Finally, take a good look at those warnings before continuing on with this chapter. There's a lot more PTSD on the way, and those things I've mentioned as temporary start to come into play now. And more cliff hangers. Because I like that sort of thing.

* * *

**Chapter Two: To the Last, I Grapple With Thee**

* * *

Tony jumped to his feet, ready to dash back to the trees for cover, but Cap just moved towards the arrow. "Cap, if someone's shooting at us-"

"It's one of Hawkeye's normal arrows," Cap said. "Don't worry. He wouldn't hit us."

"That arrow seemed pretty close," Tony said dubiously.

"Barton would have hit us if he'd been aiming for us." Cap plucked the arrow out of the sand, turning it over in his fingers.

"There's a note tied to it," Tony said, tapping his fingers against the arc reactor nervously. Cap hummed an acknowledgement as he untied it. Hawkeye. Barton. With a bow and arrow for a weapon? Cupid/Legolas/bird brain? Intelligence level yet to be determined, but it felt right. Robin Hood/Apollo - no, Apollo sounded too God-like. Skip that one.

"-ony, are you listening?"

"I said not to call me that," Tony snapped rather than replying that no, in fact, he wasn't. "What were you saying, Capsicle? Wait, Capsicle? That wasn't on the list." Tony frowned, wondering where that one had come from.

"The list?" Cap asked, looking just as perplexed.

"Of names to call you."

In retrospect, maybe that wasn't the best thing for Tony to say. Cap blinked at him, then sighed as he looked down. "You have a list of names to make fun of me with?"

That... that sounded bad. Actually, that sounded really bad, when Cap put it like that. And there goes Cap's Frown of Eternal Disappointment. "Not... really?" Tony said. Yeah, that sounded convincing. Tony tried again. "It's just a list? Of nicknames and stuff. I just started one for Barton. Is that bad?"

"Usually the names aren't very flattering," Cap said, but the disapproving frown was gone as he searched for spitefulness in Tony's eyes and found none.

"Oh." Okay, that... actually didn't actually make much sense at all, because none of the names felt particularly malicious to him. Then again, he also didn't remember how he used to use them. But right now, not malicious.

"You really don't mean them as insults, do you?" Cap scrutinized him, careful gaze that left Tony feeling unsettled.

Tony fought the urge to tap the reactor again, knowing it would just make him look nervous. "I... don't think so? Tony might, I guess. I don't."

Cap was silent for a long while, long enough that Tony looked at the notepad he'd dropped despite how much it freaked him out that it drew itself. The silence was just too long.

Before he could break the silence with more babbling (Twenty-five, data collection complete. Babbling is definitely a coping mechanism), a second arrow landed at his feet. Tony yelped and jumped back.

Cap wordlessly picked up the arrow, unrolling the note. His lips quirked. "Hurry up," he said.

"Hurry up what?"

"Oh, you... you weren't listening earlier, were you?" Cap smiled, though Tony still didn't know if their last conversation had ended favorably. Was that a good sign? The data was inconclusive, though Tony had collected enough. He just couldn't decipher it.

"Agent Barton said he was trapped on the ship I told you about. There's a boat pulled up on the beach down there. We should go pick him up."

Tony stilled. That ship was a long ways away, and over open water. He hadn't thought about it earlier, but now that he was closer to the water... Cap seemed to realize that Tony wasn't responding favorably, and he felt another hand squeezing his arm. "Do you want to wait here?" Cap asked.

Waiting would be good. He could even go back to the desk and the bed and get out of this annoying jungle heat. And there'd be no water. No large bodies of water that people could hold him under and... where did that thought come from?

Yeah, this was not cool. At all. Tony Stark, or what remained of his feelings, _refused_ to be afraid of water, because that was a ridiculous fear and it was so _not_ number Twenty-seven. "Let's just go already," he said, pushing Cap aside and marching straight over to the boat. "Come on, chop chop. I've only got two days left to live, remember? So hurry it up, Uncle Sam. America wants you to get your-"

Tony snapped his mouth shut when he reached the edge of the waves, afraid his voice was giving away too much of his panic. If the tide came just a little higher, it would have dragged the small boat out to sea. He almost wished it would, so he wouldn't have to get closer to the water.

He nearly jumped at Cap's hand on his back - honestly, national icons should not be this touchy-feely. It was creepy. He turned around to glare. If Cap was going to suggest he wait again, Tony would-

"Why don't you sit down and I'll push us out?"

-would have his anger completely deflated by Cap's suggestion. He honestly had no idea how to respond to that or to the hand on his back that stayed put until he moved towards the small boat. Carefully avoiding the water as he stepped in, Tony refused to meet Cap's eyes. He did not clutch the sides of the little boat either, but he may have had a little too tight a grip on the oars as Cap pushed them out.

This... wasn't so bad. Maybe. Okay, it was terrible, constantly hearing the waves crash against the side of the boat without knowing why he didn't like the water. Speaking of, this boat sucked too. He could totally make a better one, with an engine that ran off solar energy and taller sides that wouldn't let the bigger waves splash him.

Cap tried to start a conversation a few times, but Tony didn't dare take his attention off the oars in front of him. He couldn't have said how long it took them to row out to the ship, but Cap had to physically grab Tony's hands to keep him from rowing them into it. He pulled up his oars after that and let Cap direct them to the ladder.

Tony went up first, which nearly made him angry because Twenty-seven was that he was _not_ afraid of water and he didn't need to be babied like this. Except he really didn't want to stay this close to the water a second longer than necessary and arguing counted as longer than necessary. The trip out here was more than enough proof for him that the water did (_not_) bother him.

The deck was deserted when he got there. The ship looked sort of what he'd always imagined a pirate ship would look like, if he'd been the sort to imagine such things. Was he? Actually, much like the little boat, Tony looked at the wooden monstrosity and the clunky steering wheel, and he itched to make it more efficient. Wood was a crappy material for a boat. There had to be some sort of alloy he could make that would be a lot better defensively. And those canons? Those were disgraceful. Though the harpoon on the bow was a different story. That looked sleek and deadly, and Tony could appreciate the design even if it was old-fashioned.

The complete lack of people was creepy though. Tony was glad when Cap came up behind him, looking around curiously. "Hawkeye?" he called out, raising his shield in front of them when there was a lack of response. He could feel Cap's suspicion and a bit of worry that something might have happened to this Hawkeye person.

Tony did not need to be protected, though, and it irked him that Cap assumed he needed it against a fat lot of nothing. First the water, and now this - Tony pushed the shield out of the way, stepping forward with far more confidence than he felt, yelling out as he went. "Hello? Anyone here? It's rude to call us here and then keep us waiting when-"

"You guys were the ones who kept me waiting," said a voice to his left.

Tony twisted around so fast his already tense muscles protested. There was a man wearing a sleeveless sort of body armor that was black with purple highlights and a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. He stood where there hadn't been anyone a few seconds before with his arms crossed over his chest. That quickly changed to raising his hands in a non-threatening manner. Tony heard a metallic whine nearby that sounded familiar, even if he couldn't place it. "Easy there, Stark," the man said, "You're not-"

"Don't!" Tony said as the man started to walk forward. "That's not... Don't call me that."

Cap was moving behind him, and he felt pressure on his arm. Cap was trying to push it down. When had Tony lifted his arm? He was holding it palm out at the stranger, and he could see a curious red out of the corner of his eye. He didn't dare look away from the stranger to see what it was.

"Ton-" Cap started, cutting himself off as Tony tensed. "Sorry. But that's Clint Barton. He's Hawkeye, one of your friends. He's here to help you, just like I am, so you can relax."

"I don't need help," Tony said, though he tried to get his mind to process the information. His arm still wouldn't go down, and why was it red anyway? Not bloody, but metallic-looking.

"Not from where I'm standing," he heard Barton mutter under his breath. The man looked at ease, despite his hands still in the air, and he gave Cap a questioning glance.

"He doesn't have any of his memories," Cap explained. "Only feelings. He's been on a hair trigger since we got on the boat, and he doesn't like his own name for some reason."

Barton drew a sharp breath at the information, cursing softly. "What's setting him off?"

"I think it's the water."

Barton cursed more and Tony felt like pointing out that not only was he right there when they were talking about him, but also that he was _fine_ with the whole water issue. No, not issue. Water was totally not an issue. Except it was taking all of his concentration not to fire the weapon - and where the hell had it come from? It wasn't the taser he'd made. He didn't even spare a thought to how he knew it was a weapon.

"That explains a few things," Barton said when he was a bit calmer. "And of course he wouldn't stay behind. He's a stubborn son of a bitch."

"Twenty-eight," Tony said, only vaguely aware his mouth was moving at all. He started to tremble with tension as Barton started moving again. "Don't..."

"Sucks not having memories," Barton said, his voice calm. The dark, murderous expression on Barton's face from when Cap mentioned water was gone, replaced with an easy smile. "Because while you know there's danger, you don't have a frame of reference for it. You don't know why it's dangerous, or when the danger's passed. But you can trust us, right Stark?"

Cap, who had kept the pressure on Tony's arm, managed to lower it an inch while Barton had been talking. It came right back up at the name. "I'm not Stark. Not Tony either. I don't... Don't call me that."

"Right. I'll remember that. So what do we call you? Ex-Tony? Anti-Stark?

"Agent Barton..." Cap said warningly as the metallic whine started again. It was getting hard to breathe, but there was still... Tony couldn't give in, not yet. He had to fight this. He just wished he knew how.

Barton paused. He still had his hands in the air where Tony could see them. Empty. Safe. "You can trust us, can't you? To tell you when the danger's over?"

"I still don't like Captain America." Tony heard Cap's breath hitch, but the deflection was worth it. Cap stayed in place though, keeping a light pressure on his arm without forcing it. A suggestion, instead of a command, and probably the only reason Tony hadn't thrown him off to fight him as well.

"What about me then?" Barton asked, before his face turned grim. "Actually, if you only remember feelings, I don't think I want the answer to that."

He couldn't keep this up for much longer. Something was going to break, and Tony knew if it did, the weapon would go off, killing Barton, possibly the rest of them too. Tony didn't want to hurt anyone. He could though. He _always_ ended up hurting people, even when he was trying to protect them. He always- "Frame of reference?" Tony bit out, all of his control on keeping that metallic whine from firing.

"You..." Barton looked uncertain, his eyes going to Cap. Tony couldn't see what Cap did, but it reassured Barton. "Okay, this might get worse before it gets better, because you've never talked about this to anyone. So we've got to figure out what happened based on what you feel, alright? Natasha and I have noticed a few things since we moved into the tower. You get nervous around water, like when Thor and Cap were splashing water around in the kitchen sink while Cap tried to teach him how to do dishes by hand. He offered to teach you too, but you wouldn't even go in the kitchen." Tony listened to the description and shivered. He didn't remember the scene... hell, he didn't even know who Thor was other than the fact that Cap had mentioned him a few times. But not wanting to get closer to water? Yeah, Tony understood that one. "Though it doesn't seem to effect you as much when you're in the suit. You've gone underwater a few times while wearing it, without problem. Our theory is that they may have used a form of torture on you while you were captured in Afghanistan," Barton continued. "It's called water boarding. It's basically simulated drowning."

Captured in Afghanistan? Tony filed that away for later to number, trying to parse through the important information. Simulated drowning. Except that didn't feel quite right, and the wrongness only made Tony feel more agitated. Suddenly, all he could feel was Cap behind him, around him, where he could so easily _push_ and hold Tony down.

"Get away!" Tony shouted as he struggled out of Cap's grip, too terrified that he'd start to see Cap as a threat and use the weapon on him as well. Cap moved away, holding his hands up just like Barton.

Was like Barton. Barton now had his hands at his side, balled into fists, and a blank expression on his face. "They held you down," was all he said.

Tony took a step back, hitting the wall of the ship. He couldn't back up any more without falling in.

"Hawkeye, you're making it worse!"

Tony wasn't paying attention anymore. He had to - He wouldn't let them. He had a weapon this time. No, he couldn't make them a weapon, but one of his own. He could defend himself. He could-

"Tony!" He couldn't breathe. Were they already holding him down? "_Tony_, listen to me. You're safe. There's your frame of reference. Neither of us will hold you under the water. We won't. I promise. Tony, look at me!"

Tony looked, his eyes unfocused, barely able to make out Barton standing in front of him over what felt like water surrounding him. "Tony, listen to me. Just breathe. You can, right? No one is holding you under the water. The men who did that to you are dead, and neither me or Cap would let anyone else to do that to you. Just take a deep breath, Tony. Trust me."

He couldn't breathe - but he didn't want to hurt anyone else. He couldn't. Tony tried breathing like Barton said and... it didn't work, not a deep breath, but it was a breath. He wasn't drowning.

Tony lowered his arm, collapsing against Barton's shoulder as he gasped for air. He'd have fallen to the ground if the archer hadn't been supporting him. "Take it easy, man," he heard Barton murmur soothingly as Tony's lungs begged for air. Then, lower, so that Tony barely heard, much less comprehended in his air-starved mind, "Thanks for trusting me."

It was getting easier to breathe, but it was slow going. And it really didn't help matters to have Cap hovering around like concerned kicked puppy who didn't know where to put his paws where it wouldn't hurt someone. Tony grabbed Cap's hand to keep him in one place once he'd gotten his bearings. It was soon after that when Tony found himself squished against Barton in the middle of a giant Cap hug.

"Uh, Cap?" Barton said, fidgeting against him.

"Yeah, didn't think Cap would be that clingy either," Tony said a little breathlessly, deciding that blaming Cap was a far more logical reason for why he was still leaning against them than the fact that he didn't think he could stand on his own.

"Clingy?" The question was followed by two raised eyebrows and a blush from Cap, but the national icon still didn't let go. This time, Tony didn't feel threatened by Cap. Just tired.

"Cap? I like you and all, but can you let me go now?" Barton asked, sounding awkward.

Reluctantly, Cap let go of both of them, and Tony tried to move away as well, except his legs were still jelly and he might be trembling a little. Or a lot. It was hard to tell exactly, since his body felt numb.

Barton stopped him before he fell over. "Hey, I meant him, not you. You just had a flashback, so don't try to move yet." Looking around, Barton helped him over to the steps leading to the bow of the ship where he could sit down. He started to reach for Tony's shoulders, before thinking better of it. "Put your head down, okay? It'll help you feel better."

Tony tensed again as he felt Barton's hand on his back, but he kept breathing. It was tough, but he managed to relax as Barton's hand rubbed small circles into his back. Cap sat on his other side, a comforting bulk that was probably more for Cap's own comfort than for Tony's, but at the moment Tony couldn't spare the energy to mind.

He almost wished he knew how to take advantage of their proximity, because it just felt awkward. Tony didn't know what to do with touch, but he wished he did.

When he could feel his extremities again and the trembling subsided, Tony decided some answers were in order. "So I'm afraid of drowning. Twenty-seven B." And now that he had the though process to spare for it, Twenty-nine: Captured in Afghanistan. Which, that needed more explaining. "Why am I afraid of drowning? That... was that normal? Because it sucks if it is."

"You don't normally react this badly, but you do react," Barton explained. "I just don't think most people have noticed. Like I said, even Natasha and I only noticed after we'd moved in. I think this place is part of the reason it hit so bad this time though. You can't suppress emotions very well here, especially not strong ones."

He was speaking to Tony like he was a frightened animal, and he kept rubbing Tony's back. The latter Tony found he didn't mind all that much despite the awkwardness. The former, however, he minded. He minded a lot. "And you can't tell me where we are?"

"Got it in one, Stark," Barton said with an easy smile.

"I'm not-"

"Not Stark, got it." This time there was relief in his voice, and he spoke over Tony's head to Cap, "I think he's actually back with us this time."

"What..?" Tony raised his head, looking back and forth between Cap and Barton.

Cap touched his shoulder gently, and Tony only tensed a little at the contact. He forced himself to relax once no other pressure was exerted. "You've been babbling for the last ten minutes," Cap said. "Pretty much since you collapsed."

Tony did not remember any of that, beyond a short quip about Cap being clingy. Great. More things he didn't remember. "But _why_? Why am I like this?"

Barton's hand hesitated for the slightest second on his back, even though his face didn't show anything. For a place where it was harder to hide emotions, Barton had a damned good poker face. For some reason though, Tony still felt Barton's reluctance to speak.

"A while back you were kidnapped in Afghanistan and held for three months," Barton started carefully. And yeah, Tony knew that. Twenty-nine. "A terrorist cell called the Ten Rings wanted you to make weapons for them, and that's where you got the arc reactor because of shrapnel you'd taken in the chest. It keeps the shrapnel from moving around and killing you."

Tony nodded, feeling oddly distant from the events even though he knew it was part of the memories he'd lost. Listening to Barton talk was a bit like hearing a story, rather than a fact of his life. It was nice to know what the arc reactor did though. Other than serve as a source of energy for tasers and cause him pain when he took it out, that is. He looked down at the arc reactor, touching it gently through the cloth of his shirt. "So did I make the weapons?" he asked after a moment.

"You made yourself one to use against them." There was... something odd with Barton's voice. Not bad odd, but it took Tony a few seconds to place it, and even then it felt strange directed towards him. It was almost like Barton approved. Thirty: Approval didn't happen to him often. Well, if Twenty-four was to be believed about him being an ass, that was probably why.

"And what does that have to do with what just happened?" Tony asked impatiently. The data wasn't complete enough to draw conclusions from.

At this, Barton paused, giving Cap all the time needed to butt in. "Agent Barton, are you sure we should tell him? He's getting tense again."

"I'm not-" Okay, maybe he was. Tony suppressed a comeback in favor of responding later, once he forced his shoulders to relax.

Barton shook his head, giving Tony's arm a gentle squeeze that wasn't nearly as threatening as Cap's hand, though it was firmer. Tony wondered if it was because of how high up Cap's hand was on his shoulders.

"If I'm going to be Cap's teddy bear when you get 'clingy', you might as well call me Clint. That goes for you too," Barton, or, well, Clint said as he poked Tony on the nose before turning back to Cap. "And it's better for him to understand it, rather than to keep him in the dark."

"A frame of reference," Cap sighed, not looking happy about it.

"Hello! _He's_ sitting right here!" Tony cut in.

"As I've said, you've never really talked about it, not to anyone, much less SHIELD. And there weren't any survivors to ask," Clint said. "But it's likely you were tortured before you started to play along. Natasha and I had thought water boarding, but given what you were saying about being held down, I think they were a lot cruder about it. I'm willing to bet they just held you under the water."

"I-I didn't say..." Had he? He hadn't said anything about that. He couldn't... if they held him down...

"Whoa, there. Easy," he heard Clint say. "Cap, move your hand away from his shoulder."

Tony wanted to go back to hiding under the desk. It was safer there and the road to self-discovery _sucked_. He'd already decided he didn't want to know more and-

"You're babbling again," Clint pointed out calmly.

Tony snapped his mouth shut, shivering miserably as he pushed all thoughts of water and drowning out of his head. Denial was a beautiful thing, even if in this case it wasn't a particularly easy one.

While Clint and Cap murmured soothing platitudes, Tony decided it was time to get a grip. Obviously, the old Tony hadn't freaked out this much if the others hadn't even known. He could do the same, even in this stupid place where it was impossible to hide anything.

Maybe.

"You're angry," Tony said to Clint after a while, once he trusted his mouth to only say what he intended to.

"Yeah, I am angry. Not at you or Cap though."

Tony scowled as Clint ruffled his hair, the easy affection catching him off guard. He honestly didn't know what to do with that since he didn't seem like the sort of person who had a lot of people who were genuinely fond of him - Thirty-one. Especially not when the said person was also angry.

"What are you doing out on this ship, anyway?" Cap asked, sensing the need to change the subject.

"I woke up here," Clint said with an odd stare at Tony. "There's no one else on board, and it's too big for just one person to sail. No lifeboats either, so I couldn't get to shore. I was up in the crow's nest because I was about to die of boredom when I saw you guys on the beach. I - Hey!"

Since he was getting stared at oddly, Tony decided to steal one of Clint's arrows. He eyed it suspiciously, running a hand along the shaft to the feathers. Still not satisfied, Tony reached out for the bow that was compacted against Clint's back.

Clint recoiled, attempting to protect the bow. "What the... You think you could ask before grabbing other people's things?"

Blinking, Tony thought about it. Note to self: People liked being asked permission to glare at their objects suspiciously. "May I?" Tony asked finally.

"Yeah, sure," Clint said sarcastically. "Go ahead and take my life bl- Tony!"

Sarcastic or not, that was more than enough permission for Tony. "Don't call me that," he snapped, unfolding the bow and looking at it with disapproval. "And this bow couldn't have shot an arrow that far. That distance is impossible for anyone to hit, even if you're good. And scratch that, not even a real hawk could have seen that far. How did you even see us? What? Stop laughing! It's true!"

He gave a small squeak that he would never admit to as Clint pulled Tony against him for a tight hug. Before Tony could work up annoyance about being everyone's personal teddy bear, Clint's forehead rested against Tony's neck and his relief was palatable as his breath sent shivers down Tony's spine. "Even without your memories, you never change."

Tony sensed relief and guilt..? It was coming from Clint. For being the reason Tony flash-backed. For having to bring up the non-memories again before he could help. Clint was... afraid of hurting his team mates again?

Tony couldn't have said how he knew this information. He also had no idea what to _do_ with that information. This physical affection thing was still beyond him, and Tony didn't know how to respond. Cap and Clint seemed like naturals at it, while all Tony could do was sit there helplessly. Thirty-two. He looked at Cap, half pleading for some sort of clue.

Which was apparently enough for Cap to join in the cuddle pile. "Is everyone this touchy-feely normally?" he asked, wondering if he was really that different.

"No," Clint said, though he didn't move. "This is _weird_. And I should have more control than this, but..."

Tony awkwardly patted Clint's arm that was wrapped around him, hoping that was enough. At least being in the center of the cuddle pile was comfortable, even if he didn't know how to actively return the favor. "You never answered my question earlier," Tony pointed out once Clint was calmer.

"I saw you with the telescope in the crow's nest," Clint replied against his neck, not even needing a repeat of the question. The hug tightened for a fraction before Clint pulled away. He gave Tony a small smile in response to his silent question - not that Tony would admit to being worried, certainly not about someone he'd just met. Especially not with the grin that smile turned into. "And don't look at me about the impossible distance. I didn't think it would work, but this place is-"

Clint cut himself off, rubbing his temples lightly. "Yeah, this place really does make it hard to keep secrets from you. Don't think I'm letting you live this down though."

"And what other secrets aren't you supposed to tell me?" Tony asked innocently. He heard Cap give a small laugh, which Tony used as a distraction to wiggle out of Cap's hug. He still didn't like the guy, after all.

Clint on the other hand... Clint he liked, so he was glad of the laugh that statement got from him. "Only that Tasha was right. You grow on people, whether we want you to or not."

Tony frowned at the statement. Taken on Clint's word, that should be Thirty-three. But that would imply people sticking around long enough for that to happen, which didn't feel right. Data inconclusive. Further testing needed.

"Did you see any shadows while you were up there?" Tony asked as he pointed to the crow's nest, since he didn't quite know how to respond to Clint's earlier statement.

"There were, actually," Clint said, letting the earlier topic slide with a curious glance. "They were off to the east of the jungle... which again, not letting you live down. Even this boat is low tech. I'd expected more machines, I guess."

"It's not my fault this ship is inefficient!" Tony said, just a little defensively. "I could make one with much better alloys."

"Sure you can," Cap said with a smile.

"With an engine that doesn't need fossil fuels," Tony said. He frowned at Cap, his good humor slipping away.

"So what was this about the shadows?" Clint asked, cutting in with the practiced ease of someone who diffused their fights often. It implied that Twenty: He Hated Captain America was correct even in the normal world.

Completely ignoring Cap, Tony stood up and peered to the east, though he made sure to stay well away from the side of the ship.

"That's where Ms. BDSM Boots and Corset is waiting. If I don't find her in two days, I probably die a painful and horrible death."

"Then we don't have a lot of time left. Time passes differently here," Clint said. He completely lost his easy-going demeanor at Tony's last sentence. "Come on. With the three of us, we can bring the ship closer to the shadows and we won't have to walk as far."

"You're coming too?"

"Yup. Just like a bad penny. You can't get rid of me," Clint said, his eyes surprisingly kind with a hint of the earlier guilt. "And we've wasted a lot of time here. Don't worry, Tony. We'll get you out of here."

"I'm not Tony," he insisted absently, running through the pros and cons. Pros: He actually liked Clint. He trusted Clint, and he kind of liked Clint's hugs. He was good with a bow and with fighting, in case any more Hydras showed up. Cons: This place was freaky and emotional, and Tony didn't like people knowing that much about him (Thirty-three). The longer Clint stayed, the more he would find out. Then there was the fact that he was a normal human. Unlike Cap, he might not survive though through the shadows.

"You're Not-Tony then," Clint said, interrupting the internal debate. "The Engineer that was formerly known as Stark?"

"I'm not Stark anything!" Tony nearly shouted, the knee jerk reaction to that name nearly overwhelming him when he didn't guard against it.

"Clint," Cap said warningly.

"You really hate that name, don't you?" Clint asked, a sad look crossing his face. "That shouldn't surprise me, given your file, but I never thought..."

"Come on," Cap said, touching Clint's arm lightly. "Let's get the lifeboat up and we can set sail."

Tony let them handle the leaning over the rail to bring the boat up. He glanced around and saw a door leading below deck. There was probably an engine down there, because 'setting sail' was just out of the question, but he'd be under the water level...

Hell no. He was done being afraid of that, wasn't he? He was... well, he wasn't Tony Stark, but he damn well wasn't going to let a fear of water stop him.

Tony marched up to the door and went down without giving himself time to hesitate again. It was a little nerve-wracking, but Tony pushed all thoughts of water away and forced himself to explore. The first room he found was an office of sorts, then a kitchen and... beds? Well, you could apparently live comfortably on this boat. Tony grabbed a packet of dried mangoes from the kitchen and continued wandering. There were a few more rooms Tony didn't recognize before he found the engine.

He whistled when he saw it. "You are a sexy thing, aren't you?" he purred to it, running his hands along the cool, clean lines of the metal casing. "This is what I'm talking about: clean energy!"

Tony tapped the arc reactor in his chest as he looked over the larger version of it in front of him, pushing away the unease he felt as part of his non-phobia of water. The engine itself was a little beaten down and warped, but it shouldn't take long to fix, especially if... Yup, closet full of tools, exactly what Tony needed. He could probably even improve it before they got the life boat up. Tony started working immediately on the familiar-looking design, losing himself to the engine.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but it seemed like a decent while before he heard a low whistle. Tony pushed himself out from under the engine to see an upside-down Clint leaning over him. "See? Clean energy," Tony said, still lying on his back.

"Never doubted you, Not-Tony."

Tony scowled at the name, but he accepted the hand up as he inched the rest of the way out from under the engine. At least Clint was impressed by the work he'd done on the engine. As he should be. "You look like you haven't seen it before," Tony said with a smirk. "Didn't you do a search of the ship earlier?"

A blank expression flickered across Clint's face for a second before it settled into one of Clint's easy grins. Tony immediately felt his guard rise. "Must have missed it," Clint said, only a slight pause when he realized Tony wasn't buying it.

"It wasn't here earlier," Tony said flatly. He looked at the engine that bore a surprising resemblance to the one he'd designed before. He hadn't thought about it, pushed it away so that he wouldn't have to think about it. But it was there, in his pride while showing it off to Clint. This was the engine he'd designed that appeared on the paper without drawing it, which had now appeared here without being made. If this was normally his life, Tony didn't want it.

That didn't mean he had to listen to Clint's answer. Denial was still a gorgeous lady to court. Too bad she didn't seem to want to give him her hand at the moment. She was such a fickle lover. "So why were you angry earlier?" Tony asked as Clint opened his mouth to answer his earlier question.

Clint saw right through the diversion tactic, but he played along for now. That was why he liked Clint, Tony decided. "I don't like hearing about my friends being tortured, is all," Clint replied, unconsciously reaching out to touch Tony's arm. He hesitated the moment he realized it, but continued with the motion, squeezing gently. "Don't let this go to your head, but there are some people who like you."

"And you're one of them?" Tony asked. It didn't feel like Clint was lying, and by this point Tony was sure he'd be able to tell if he were. It was just strange, thinking that someone actually cared. It was a little scary, how lonely the doubt made him feel.

"Against my better judgement, yeah," Clint said with feigned exasperation. He must have seen something in Tony's eyes, because he dropped the act. "Hey, I mean that. You aren't the easiest person to get along with, sure, but the whole team does care about you. Even Cap. That's why we came here to help. Besides, who would make new arrows for me if you died here?"

_That_ Tony could understand. Thirty-four, he made things for the team. He was useful, therefore people stayed around.

Clint frowned, and that link which had told him about Clint and Cap's thoughts earlier? Yeah, apparently it worked both ways. Either that, or he was babbling again, and Tony preferred to think he had more control than that. This place _sucked_. "Tony," Clint started, "It's not like-"

"Let's get this thing started," Tony said, looking around for where he'd put the On switch. "And I'm not Tony. He has memories, I don't."

His eyes fell on panel that was on the side of the machine. It had a camera and a speaker, but both were dark and lifeless. For some reason, that was... It was more than upsetting, actually, though he didn't know why. "That panel is dark. Why is it dark? It shouldn't be. It shouldn't... Why is it dark?"

"It looks like one of JARVIS's panels," Clint said.

"Jarvis?" Tony asked. That name. He knew that name, and it was someone important. Someone important that shouldn't be dark.

"Your AI. He's... Hey, he's okay. He just can't be in this place with us."

"He is?" Tony desperately needed the assurance, even if he couldn't have said why.

"JARVIS is fine. He just couldn't come to this place," Clint said firmly. Tony let out the breath he was holding as relief flooded through him, though he didn't relax completely. Clint continued, "I don't even pretend to understand the relationship between you and your bots, but he'd have been here in a heartbeat if he actually had one."

"An AI with no heart?" Tony asked, sorting through quotes that came to mind. "Like Tik-Tok?" Something about that seemed right. Faithful. Though if he were to build a robot, Tony would try to give it feelings.

Clint just looked perplexed. "I have no idea who Tik-Tok is, but JARVIS is safe. Don't worry about him."

Safe, just not here. That was still a little disconcerting, considering the panel was still dark, but he'd taken Clint's word once. Might as well this time too, especially since he didn't feel like he was lying. Tony glanced at the dark panel with unease, but forced himself to calm down. He refused to be this panicky all the time, and this was getting ridiculous.

"You really do care about them," Clint said, something like pity on his face. "I mean, you made them, but I never really thought about it, I guess."

_He's learning too much._

If Clint stayed, he would learn more things about Tony. And then he'd leave, or use them against him. People always left when they saw the real Tony. Always. Thirty-five.

Clint was frowning again, his eyes slightly unfocused as if he were trying to get a read from Tony. _No_.

The archer blinked. "Tony, how did..." He shook his head, as if to clear it. "I didn't get a clear picture of what you were thinking, but it wasn't-"

"So I just need to hot wire this, right?" Tony asked, ignoring the platitudes. He ran over the wires he'd need to connect in his head and moved to the back of the engine as he tried to put space between them.

"Not letting you deflect this time, Tony. What-"

"Don't you have to go up and be the albatross or something?" Tony said, clearly dismissing him. He caught a glance of Clint, who wasn't even trying to hide his frustration. "I've got this. Go help Cap do whatever he's doing."

"Tony, you-"

It wasn't Tony that cut Clint off this time, but the ship rocking precariously. Tony lost his balance, his gut becoming far too intimate with the engine for comfort as he fell on top of it. The breath was knocked out of him as he was rocked back, his attempts to grab on ending with Tony flying into the wall. Only the wall was a lot squishier than wood should be, and it grunted in pain when Tony rammed into it.

One of Clint's arms wrapped around his chest as the rocking petered out and they both stood there for a moment as the ship righted itself. Just when Tony caught his breath, the ship started to rock violently again, but this time he used the momentum to pull them both into the door-way, his hands grabbing on to the door frame as Clint arched his back against it.

"We need to get up top," Tony said breathlessly.

"Yeah," Clint said, his arm tightening briefly around Tony before letting go.

They took off as soon as the boat stopped rocking enough that they could move. Racing through the ship, they knocked into each other a few more times as they ran. Cap met them half way to the upper deck.

"What's going on?" Clint asked, clinging to a door handle to keep from barreling into Tony.

"It's one of the Chitauri war beasts trying to capsize us," he said, motioning for them to follow. "We've got to get to shore."

"Chitauri?" Tony asked, looking back at Clint.

Clint had stopped running. His hands were balled in fists and a look of pure rage was on his face before he schooled it to be blank. _The ones who hurt his friends. The ones who gave Loki the staff. The ones Clint helped invade Earth. And Tony was putting him up against them again._ "'_To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee,_'" Tony said unconsciously, feeling Clint's emotions ripping through him.

Clint's anger that was now focused on him. "I know I was pushing, but this is too far, Tony. You-"

"He's not conscious of it," Cap said sharply. "And he doesn't remember. As far as we know, this is the Enchantress trying to stop us from helping Tony by influencing this place as well. But we have to move now."

"What are you talking about? What's this got-" Another shock ripped through the boat, and Tony, who had let go of the door frame he'd been clinging to so he could gesture, stumbled into Clint again. Clint didn't catch him this time. It was Cap that grabbed him, pushing him to a rail he could cling to.

"Hawkeye, we need to move. We can discuss this later," Cap commanded.

That snapped Clint out of whatever it was, and he gave a curt nod as the link was broken abruptly. He walked past them, not looking at Tony. "Clint!" he started, cutting himself off at Cap's warning look. "Is it my fault?" Tony asked, baffled and hurt, because he didn't know _why_.

"No," Cap said firmly, motioning for Tony to keep moving. "Just leave him alone for now though. He'll realize that once he's calmed down."

The rest of the way out to the deck was rough, but Tony finally stumbled into the sunlight, blinking as he saw a giant armored... It was an armored something. It was a giant mass that came out of the water, practically flying as it rammed the ship. An arrow whizzed by his face and glanced off the armored side as it wheeled around to ram them again.

"That is not Moby Dick," Tony said, shivering as he watched the water slide off the beast's body. "How do we fight that thing?"

"Your armor..." Cap started, shaking his head when he saw the confused look in Tony's eyes. "Right, no armor."

"Cap, get him out of here," Clint said, loosing another arrow. "I'll distract it."

"No, your arrows aren't working," Cap said, his mouth setting in a firm line. "And he trusts you more than me. I'll take care of-"

"I'm not leaving either of you here!" Tony objected, stumbling forward as the beast hit the ship again. This time, instead of wheeling around, it jumped over the ship and headed straight at them with a terrible roar.

Tony didn't think. Cap had his shield, but Clint wasn't... Tony pushed Clint down, falling on top of him as the beast ripped up the railing as it flew by. He cried out as sharp spikes brushed over his back and tore his shirt. He vaguely heard Clint yelling at him, calling him _Stark_ of all things, but Tony was gritting his teeth to keep from screaming as the beast passed over.

It felt like hours, but it was probably only a matter of seconds before the beast swam off to make another pass, this time taking a long swim out in hopes of finishing it.

"-little idiot! You're not wearing the armor!" Clint was yelling at him. There was open panic on Clint's face, and he didn't let go of his hold on Tony this time, so Tony must have done something right.

"They aren't too deep," Cap said, kneeling down as they both helped Tony sit up. Tony's back seared with pain. "The salt water on the beast is why he's in so much pain, but he should be fine if we can dress the wounds."

Great. It's rubbing salt in his wounds. He missed a bit of the conversation trying not to giggle hysterically as Clint pressed bits of what had been his shirt to Tony's back. "-lifeboat is destroyed, Cap," he heard as he adjusted to the pain. "You're the only one who can not only swim that far, but hold him when he flashbacks. You've got to get him out of here."

"You can't," Tony gasped out, grabbing hold of Clint's wrist. "You have to... I'll make something. I can use the engine. We'll kill it, and it'll work, I promise. I made a taser out of a cellphone and other spare parts that killed the Hydra. I can come up with something that will-"

"Tony," Clint said as he pulled Tony into a careful hug. "This won't kill me. I'm not sure what will happen, but Thor said we couldn't die here. _You_ can."

"He said _might_. It's still a risk," Cap said, his hands in fists in his lap.

"One we all said we'd take," Clint returned. He focused back on Tony, helping him stand. "Look, go easy on Cap, will ya? He's trying," he whispered in Tony's ear.

Then he let go, and Tony stumbled back against Cap, hissing as his back hit Cap's chest. "Clint!" he heard Cap shout as Tony tried to go after the archer. Except Captain America's biceps barred the way.

"I'm gonna test out this harpoon gun," Clint called back as he circled the weapon. "Good thing I never miss. Looks like I only have one chance at it."

"No! Damn it, Cap, don't let him do this!" Tony pleaded as he tried to fight Cap's grip in vain.

"It's coming back around, and it'll hit hard this time with the momentum it's gained," Clint said, positioning the harpoon. "You know I'm right, Cap. Get him out of here. _Now_!"

With one more glance at Clint, Cap pulled Tony tight against him. "Don't you dare-" Tony started, trembling in either fear or fury.

"Hold your breath," Cap said before picking Tony up and throwing them both over.

"Don't die on me, Tony. I still have to beat your ass for putting me up against one of these again," was the last thing Tony heard from Clint before he went under the water.

* * *

~TBC~

* * *

Memory: As stated in the tags and by the characters, all deaths are only temporary. So don't fear too much for Clint, because while he's dead, he's not dead-dead. He's merely pining for the fjords and is not an ex-hawk. And no, I'm not sorry for bringing the dead parrot sketch into this. Though I probably should be...

Anyway, next week will feature some Black Widow. Or was it the Black Swan? Well, you'll find out next Monday, I'm sure. Please do review, as this fic is looking kind of lonely without them at the moment...

Quote of the Chapter:

"To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee."  
-Herman Melville, _Moby Dick_


	4. I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man

Anthropos Polytropos  
By: Memory Dragon  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.  
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amora the Enchantress, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan.  
Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Implied bullying. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest. If you have any questions about the warnings, I'd be more than happy to clarify as best I can.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin for putting up with me when I don't make sense, which is apparently a lot in this fic. I blame being tired while typing it. Also thanks to Margaret for reviewing. That's a pretty good guess about the world they're in, but I can't confirm or deny it just yet. You'll find out more soon.

**Important note about next week's update:** It may not happen. I'm really sorry, but I'm not really sure yet how much internet I'm going to have next week, if at all. I'll try to get it up by Wednesday at the latest, but if you don't see it by then assume I'm skipping next week and expect an update on the following Monday. Trust me, I'd much rather be updating fic than spending up to 60 hours round trip on a train with no interwebs, but one does what one must when visas are involved. So like I said, I'll try to get this up next week, but if not, you'll have a two week wait with the next chapter. I apologize for the wait, but life does happen.

* * *

**Chapter Three: I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man**

* * *

Tony woke up sometime later. He was dry, and it felt like someone had bandaged his back, but Tony didn't care. He curled up against the post he was leaned against. He didn't have to look to know Clint was dead.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but after a while he stopped trembling. He felt a sharp peck on his neck.

Tony jumped, raising his palm in defense, looking around wildly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the red and gold on his hand again, but he spotted the bird before he could look down at his hand.

It was a swan, white and elegant, and completely unimpressed with him. Vaguely, Tony remembered something about how mean swans were.

That didn't mean he wanted to hurt it though. "You have to leave. I don't think I can put my arm down," he begged it.

Surprisingly enough, it did. The bird gave him one more stern look before taking off.

It was five minutes before he could lower his hand, and there was a darkened spot on the floor that looked like a burn mark. Tony couldn't account for when that happened or how.

By this time, Tony was able to look around, and he discovered he wasn't even near the ocean anymore. The thought of it made him shiver, and he curled his legs up to his chest. He remembered being pulled under and...

Cap!

Surrounding: Boxing ring, in the middle of a field, over-cast sky. Slightly damp (had it been raining? Why was Tony dry?), on the edge of the woods. No Captain America.

Cap had been there, trying - no, not pushing him under, but holding him up. And... Tony honestly didn't remember too much after that. Had Cap brought him here? Where was he?

Tony didn't let himself think of the possibility that Cap had died as well. It would have been his fault and... Tony just wasn't ready to face that yet.

"Cap?" he called out hesitantly.

"Tony!"

Relief flooded through him at the sound of Cap's voice. "I'm not Tony," he grumbled.

Cap looked almost out of breath when he pushed through the bushes. He looked... awful just about summed it up. Too pale, too... Tony felt a small shock. Captain America looked scared. Tony honestly didn't know how to respond to that.

Thankfully, he wasn't given a chance to. With his default setting of asshole, it probably wouldn't have been pretty. Cap jumped over the ring gracefully, walking towards him. "Are you alright?" Cap asked, not waiting for his answer as he knelled down in front of Tony. "You disappeared and I thought you were... You were struggling before and I thought I let go of you. I thought-"

"Hey, there, Blondy. I'm fi-" Tony started, cut off as Cap practically pulled him into his lap for a tight hug. "I'm fine," he finished, not sure what to do with over two hundred pounds of super-soldier trembling against him and burying his head on Tony's shoulder.

He hated this guy, right? Tony was sure he did, but he also couldn't push Cap away. He tried to convince himself he wanted the contact just as much after Clint... Well, he did want comfort after what happened, but it was a weak excuse for not pushing Cap away and he knew it. Tony had no idea what to do with these platonic touches, and it just made him feel more awkward.

But Cap was just a kid, really. It kind of broke his mechanical heart that Cap had to go through all of this, just to save Tony. He should be angry Cap didn't save Clint, but it was hard to be when the kid was practically sobbing against him.

So Tony stayed still, unsure of what to do as Cap held on to him so tightly that he shook Tony with all the force of his trembling. His shirt didn't feel damp, so Cap wasn't crying. For that, Tony counted his blessings. This was awkward enough without acknowledging Captain America was crying.

It was a few moments before Cap wrestled his control back enough to speak. "I'm sorry. I should be - I should be holding this in. This place..."

"Do you always hold things in?" Tony asked. He didn't get an answer other than a few more full body shudders. He supposed that was answer enough. If Tony ever got out of this place, he was going to put a stop to Cap's terrible coping mechanisms. He didn't know how, but he'd find a way.

Finally Cap stilled. Did that mean Tony could move away now? He wasn't opposed to enjoying sitting in someone's lap while being held down (Thirty-six: probably very kinky), but he also wasn't enough of a bastard to take advantage of that right now. "So, um... are you alright now?" Tony asked, forcing himself not to fidget.

"No," Cap said truthfully. "But we've wasted enough time because I..." Cap lifted his head from Tony's shoulder, his eyes widening slightly when he took in Tony's face.

"What?" Tony asked, feeling self-conscious. It was an entirely foreign feeling and he didn't like it.

Cap simply raised his hand to touch Tony's cheek, wiping under Tony's eyes. His fingers came away wet. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think of you when I..."

Cap's fingers were wet? After brushing under... Oh, hell no. Tony jerked away, wiping his eyes furiously. "I'm _not_ crying. He said that he couldn't die, right. And _you_. Don't you dare tell him about this. He would be a smug idiot, and he already has some sort of black mail against me with that bow and arrow bit. It never happened. Rainbows happened instead. Rainbows and robots and pizza, because pizza is cool. I think. I can't picture it, but I'm sure pizzas are awesome."

Cap had his hand in front of his mouth, giving Tony no illusion that he was hiding a weak smile. Bastard. After Tony had sat there and let Cap cuddle with him too! Still, Tony didn't pull away immediately when Cap pulled him back into a hug, wondering if Cap was growing on him. "I won't tell," Cap promised, hugging Tony tight. "And he'll be... He'll be fine. He has to be."

When Tony pulled away this time, Cap let him go. Tony looked around the ring curiously, wondering why it felt so comforting. "Why is there a boxing ring in the middle of a meadow?" Tony asked. He got to his feet (thankfully without any wobbling), and touched the rope that cordoned the area off. He ran his fingers along it, trying to soak up its comfort.

"Don't know," Cap said, looking around as well.

"'_The lion and the unicorn were fighting for the crown, the lion beat the unicorn all around the town'_," Tony quoted absently. "But I don't see any lions. Or unicorns. Or a town for that matter. If there were any unicorns, they'd probably come running if they knew you were here, Spangles."

"Could you just call me Steve?" Cap asked, his voice soft and just a little pleading.

"I..." Tony looked at him, feeling slightly bewildered. "But you're Captain America," he pointed out. Cap, sure. He could call him that. He'd been calling him that in his head since they met. But Steve felt too personal.

"And you don't like Captain America," Cap said, looking a little sad. Then he reached out to touch Tony's arm. "But you didn't seem to mind me before you found out who I was. I'd rather you call me Steve."

Okay, that was legit weird. It felt a little like finding the man behind the curtain, calling a national hero by his first name. "Would Cap work?" Tony asked, fishing for a compromise.

Cap looked disappointed, but he managed a weak smile. "Guess that'll do for now."

That was almost worse than the thousands of kicked puppies, and Tony felt like an ass for not agreeing. He refused to back down now, but maybe... He'd try 'Steve' on strictly a trial basis for a little while, at least in his head.

"Come on," Cap said. "I think if we keep heading east, we could come to the edge of the shadows."

Tony paused as Cap jumped out of the ring, looking around once more. "Are you alright?" Cap... Steve asked.

"If you just found me, who patched up my back?" Tony asked, trying to look over his shoulder at the bandages he could feel.

"Turn around," Cap directed. When Tony did, he felt Cap's hands tracing the rips on his shirt. "Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing," he murmured. "Do you feel anything while you're here?"

Tony hesitated, torn between curiosity and not wanting to admit the feelings. If Cap knew about _why_ he felt... Curiosity won out. "It feels safe. Comforting. Do you know why?"

"You might be thinking of Mr. Hogan?" Steve asked. Tony stared blandly, the name not ringing any bells. "He's your chauffeur. You told me that he was the one who taught you how to box."

Thirty-seven: He can box, and he was taught by his chauffeur. None of that sounded even vaguely familiar though, which was rather disconcerting. It also didn't explain who bandaged his back, but Tony decided to file that away for later. His wounds didn't even hurt any more, and he figured they should. One of the very few perks of this place.

Tony jumped out of the ring, giving it one last look before he took off in the direction of the shadows. They walked in relative silence for a while, Tony only breaking it to mutter about the engine or to tap the arc reactor. He was trying very hard _not_ to tap at the arc reactor, as it might draw Cap's attention to it. And if his worries on the arc reactor looking dimmer were correct, he'd rather Cap... He'd rather Steve not worry about it.

It was easier said than done, however, because tapping the reactor appeared to be a nervous tick. Thirty-eight.

"You keep doing that," Steve said, startling Tony out of his thoughts.

"Doing what?" Tony asked.

"You keep saying numbers, sometimes with a statement. Like just now you said 'tapping the reactor, Thirty-eight.' Not five minutes before that, you said Twenty-five: revision, lots of babbling."

"Have I been saying those out loud?" Tony asked, before dismissing it. No big deal, he supposed. "It's a list," Tony said, nodding to himself. "It's all the things I'm finding out about myself. I'm currently up to Thirty-eight and... Cap? Are you alright?"

Cap had stopped walking, looking very pale under the cowl. "Number Five," Cap said. "You... you were muttering about it after Clint... You were adding data to number Five: He does not like himself."

Oh. Well, that was... kind of not good. Pretty damning, actually. He could either be terribly embarrassed and mortified by this, or he could take it in stride and brush it off. Tony chose the latter. "Yeah, Tony doesn't. But hey, I'm not Tony, so I don't have to like him." Tony nearly added that Cap still had a chance because he hated Tony more than Captain America, but he figured that would go over about as well as the first statement had. Namely, not at all well.

"That's why you don't like being called Tony," Steve said.

"I don't like being called that because I'm not him," Tony corrected, though he supposed the former was true enough as well.

Cap didn't look convinced. If anything, he looked like Tony had personally kicked every single one of the thousand puppies. Which was just wrong, because if Tony was kicking something, he wanted to at least have the satisfaction of actually doing the kicking before facing those eyes. "I never thought..." Cap started.

"Yeah, no. Remember Twenty-three? I don't do feelings, so you can keep them to yourself before you give me hives, Cap." Cap still... Steve still looked like puppies were being kicked, which was an unacceptable outcome of this conversation. So Tony decided to fall back on the one thing that never failed him. Twenty-four: He's an asshole.

Tony walked over to Cap and puled the cowl off with a sharp yank. "Hey! Tony, what are you-"

"Not Tony," he snapped, eying the rather impressive cowl head. Steve was still as handsome and all-American under the cowl despite it. Not fair. Tony leaned up on the balls of his feet and ruffled the ever-living hell out of Steve's already mussed hair.

"Stop that!" Steve commanded, grabbing hold of Tony's wrists and glaring.

Tony, for his part, grinned madly at him. "Looks like even Mr. Perfect America can have a bad hair day. Will wonders never cease?"

"Tony, it's your life in danger! Can't you ever take anything seriously, or do you hate yourself so much that you don't even care?" Steve said, still not letting go of Tony's wrists. In fact, his grip was just a little painful. Was Steve always this easy to rile up? Tony was a little curious as to why he hated Cap and not the other way around if that were the case.

"You got it in one, Blondy," Tony said, refusing to wince as Cap's grip turned bruising. "Why should I take this seriously? I mean, who wants a giant stick up his ass? Oh, wait. I forgot how much you seem to enjoy the one in yours. Did that come in a bottle too, or-"

A very loud squawk was the only warning they had before a winged death dropped down on top of them. Tony may have let out an embarrassing yelp as Steve pushed him down and - Oh, no. Cap was _not_ trying to hover over Tony to protect him. Anger coiled around Tony as he curled tight, considering the leverage he'd need to knock Captain America off him. It was then he caught sight of their attacker.

You know what? Tony had no problem letting Steve take the fall for him while being attacked by a swan. Because that was hilarious.

He watched in growing amusement as the swan pecked at Steve's head, making his hair even worse. "Why, Cap. I didn't realize you were so good at ruffling feathers. I thought that was my job," Tony said, then had to duck as the swan made to peck him instead.

Steve was trying to push the bird away, failing as the bird gracefully dodged under his arm and avoided the shield. Finally, the swan backed off in a flurry of feathers. Swans were mean bastards.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked.

"I might swoon," Tony sighed. "Watching you heroically defeat a swan is just too much for me. Be still my mechanical heart."

Steve's earlier fury was returning full force, but another loud squawk made both of them flinch. Steve raised his shield again, warily staring down at the bird.

It glared at both of them in return. "What did you do to piss off our fine feathered friend, Cap?" Tony asked finally. Because until Tony had spoken, it'd definitely been going after Steve.

"I don't know," Steve answered, sounding a little baffled. "It was attacking me earlier. It wouldn't let me go." Steve paused, thoughtful. "I think it was heading me off, actually. It was driving me, and it stopped attacking when I heard you."

"That's just a little creepy," Tony said, looking at the bird. It was probably the same one he'd seen earlier. He hadn't exactly been in the frame of mind to give it a positive ID though. "And aggressive. She could have just _asked_, after all. It's not like - Ow!"

Tony would never, not to his dying day, admit that he hid behind Captain America when the bird started to peck at him. Thankfully, Steve's shield was much more effective from this position.

"I don't like swans," Tony said with a glare. He wasn't sure if it was worth a number, but it was currently very true.

"Is there somewhere else you want us to go?" Steve asked the swan, not looking at Tony. He could see the twitch in Steve's mouth though as he tried not to laugh at Tony. So _not_ cool. He liked it better when Steve was mad at him. But that would require losing Steve as his human shield against the bird, and Tony wasn't willing to give that up just yet.

The swan leveled them with a stare reserved for only the most idiotic before flying off to the north-east. "So who votes we ignore the psychotic swan and keep heading towards the Shadows?"

"If we don't follow it, it'll get vicious again," Steve said, shaking his head. "Probably won't let us leave until we do what it wants."

Tony considered the pros and cons of angry swans versus fed up ones. They probably could leave if they really wanted, but it would take longer since he doubted Steve would want to hurt the swan, even in self-defense. They'd make better time checking the swan's nest first.

"You can come out from behind me now," Steve said, not really managing to hide his amusement.

"You have just lost your talking privileges," Tony said, quickly following the swan so that Steve couldn't see his face. He didn't trust himself not to have a faint blush in this weird place of _feelings_. "You are no longer allowed to talk to me. I'd rather talk to homicidal swans. At least they don't have the nerve to laugh at me. They just want to peck my eyes out. Honest animosity is worth millions, ya know. At least then you know where people stand."

A hand on his arm made him look back to see Steve's questioning blue eyes. They flickered down to Tony's wrists for a brief moment, and Tony swore he could feel the bruises forming. "About earlier-"

"Just don't, Cap," Tony said, turning back around.

He heard Steve's soft sigh. "You'll drive me crazy one of these days," Cap said, letting go of him. "I still can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"Embrace insanity, Cap. Way less stressful," Tony called over his shoulder. He could have said something about the stick Steve liked to sit on, but he had promised to try not to hate him and play nice. At least when there was no real reason to antagonize Steve. And, okay, maybe he shouldn't lashed out quite that much, but Steve's anger was so much better than kicked puppies.

It was a short walk to where the swan flew off to. They came to a beautiful clearing in the woods with a small lake and... was that a castle? Tony hadn't seen that of in the distance when they'd been at the boxing ring. And he should have.

Tony thought that if he had, he'd never have followed the swan, threatening or no. The Castle was cold, unfeeling... _judging_. It had hard, sharp lines of stone, and its shadow was long. Tony had stepped into it without realizing as the air cooled around him him in the absence of sunlight, and Tony had to fight the urge to step back and get out of it. As it was, he stopped short when he saw it, Steve nearly running into him.

"Is something wrong?" Steve asked. Tony looked back at him for the first time since he started walking, a little disappointed to see Steve's hair was (mostly) all in place again. He was kind of glad that Steve had kept the cowl off though, perhaps hoping it would help set Steve and Cap apart. And it was a bit easier, to keep from actively disliking him like that.

That didn't stop the unnerving feeling, especially not seeing Steve in the sunlight behind him while Tony was in the shadow. "The Castle," Tony said, fighting the urge to inch back into the trees. It was just a shadow, for crying out loud. Not even _The_ Shadows.

Steve took one look at the Castle and stepped between it and Tony. Tony wondered if Steve even knew he was doing it. At least he was now in the shadows too, so Tony didn't argue. "I don't like the look of this place," Steve said, raising his shield in front of them.

Before Tony could suggest they get out of here and as far away from that Castle as possible, the swan flew in, landing on the lake with a graceful arc of its wings. If Tony hadn't seen it attacking earlier, he wouldn't have known that it was psychotic and homicidal.

After a few seconds, the swan shimmered and... transformed? Where there was once a white swan, now there stood a woman dressed in a black form-fitting jumpsuit with short red hair. Tony searched for the taser in his pocket but didn't find it. It must have been lost during the attack of the Chitauri Moby Dick. Tony pushed away the pang of loss that reminder brought. "Fourteen still holds true. I hate magic," Tony grumbled.

"Agent Romanov!" Steve said, rushing forward into the water to hug her. "You were the swan?" He pulled back, blushing slightly, as the woman raised her eyebrows.

"Stark, when we get out of here, you and I are having words," the woman said, walking out of the water with a frightening glare. Steve trailed behind her.

"I'm not Stark!" he said sharply, his hands balled into fists as he tried not to yell, tried not to think of the Castle that was setting him on edge.

Romanov (too scary for nicknames, but given time, Tony was sure he'd slip up and give her some anyway) regarded him critically, before raising an eyebrow at Steve. "He doesn't remember anything, except for strong feelings and quotes from books. He..." Steve stumbled over the words, and Tony's eyes narrowed as he knew what was coming. If Cap was going to go on about _feelings_ again... but Steve didn't, continuing on with only a brief glance at Tony as he kept his voice level. "He doesn't like his name very much."

Romanov nodded, not betraying any surprise she might have felt at the information, though her eyes softened a fraction when they returned to Tony. For being in a place where it was harder to hide emotions, she had amazing control. Tony almost envied it. "That makes sense," she said. "Amora is probably repressing his memories, but some are still bleeding through. Everything is fitting into archetypes or stories, since it's the only things he knows."

So somehow, Tony was having a large effect on the environment. Considering the parts he'd found in the desk and the engine on the ship, the hypothesis was fairly sound, though further testing would be needed. But if that was true, then... "Then what happened to Clint was my fault?" Tony asked, wondering if the Castle was right to be judging him. If he had killed Clint because he had no memories, and he'd felt threatened... Tony should have been trying to find out more, instead of cowardly wanting to hide under the desk. If he'd just-

"Tony, _no_," Steve said, one hand on Tony's shoulder and the other tilting his chin up. "Look at me, Tony. That wasn't you. You protected Clint, remember? The Enchantress is influencing things here too, so it wasn't your fault."

"He's telling the truth, Tony. I saw some of the battle while I was flying around. If the Chitauri leviathan really was reacting to your fear, it would have backed off when you tried to protect him. Besides, Clint will be fine in the outside world," Romanov said, though she didn't try to touch him like Steve or Clint had. She'd moved near enough that she was out of the water, but she didn't reach out. Romanov was... She was like him, not knowing what to do with physical affection, he realized. He also wasn't sure he trusted her.

Tony took a step back, pushing Steve's hands away. "I don't even know who you are," he told her, the guilt still trying to choke him. Overhead, the sky grew darker as a bigger cloud passed over the sun.

Romanov looked up, her face expressionless as she considered the weather. "I'm Natasha Romanov of SHIELD, code name Black Widow. We work together on a first response team called the Avengers."

"And what do I call you, sweetheart? Nat? Tasha? Hot stuff?" Tony asked, ignoring Steve's frown.

"You call me many inadvisable things, Stark," Romanov said, her smile the wrong side of terrifying. "I suggest you call me Natasha for now if you value your continued existence."

"Yeah, that's the thing," Tony said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he smiled up at her. She was terrifying, no doubt about that, but he wasn't intimidated. She had nothing on the Castle. "Apparently, I'm not too keen on self-preservation. That was number thirteen, actually. Probably a bad number for it, but why change what works?"

"Stark..." Natasha said, her face unreadable.

"Not Stark. Not Tony either. What is with you guys forgetting that? I'm not Anthony Stark. He has memories. I don't." Tony stared back at her, resisting the urge to tap at the arc reactor by keeping his hands in his pockets. "I don't trust you, do I? Well, Tony doesn't. I guess I don't either. Why is that anyway?"

Natasha was silent for a while, while Steve looked torn between the two of them. Finally, Natasha spoke. "You've never trusted me. I was a plant put in place by SHIELD, which you allowed because you didn't think you would be alive much longer anyway and you wanted to know who I worked for. The only thing you didn't get right was that I worked for SHIELD rather than one of your competitors. I don't regret doing it, or what I put in my report on you."

"But?" Tony asked, sensing there was more. It was hard to get a read on her, but he could tell that much.

Natasha snorted. "This place sucks, just so you know," she said dryly.

"You're doing better than the rest of us so far in withholding information and feelings," Steve said with a small smile.

"Fine," Natasha said. "There's a but. I don't regret my job. But I wish I'd had a chance to have your trust. It's slow work, earning it back from you."

"Fair enough," Tony said, relaxing a little. She wasn't lying. She might be hard to read, but he was confident he could catch her in a lie here. And that meant the comment about her wanting to earn it back was probably true as well. Though why she would bother was beyond him. Maybe it had to do with the stuff he made for the team?

He glanced towards the Castle again, this time unable to keep his hand still. Tap-tap-tap. "Can we get away from here? I'm seriously ready to blow this popsicle stand. Vamoose."

"I can only keep human form for a short time the further I get from the lake," Natasha said, glancing between Tony and the Castle. "But on the other side of the lake, we won't be in the castle's shadow. For all the good it does when the weather is like this."

Tony looked at the Castle again, shivering at its impassive and unnerving walls. His throat felt tight as he looked at it. "Yeah, that's... Let's start walking."

As they started off, both Natasha and Steve put themselves between Tony and the Castle. He couldn't have said why exactly, but it made him feel better. Warmer. Tony decided to blame the sun for that, which was attempting to peek through the overcast sky. Even though they were still in the Castle's shadow, it made him feel a little better. Only Natasha looked up at the sky when it changed, then glanced at Tony with a relieved smile. What was that about? You know what? He didn't want to know. Time to change the subject. "So this first response team, or whatever. It's you, me, Clint..."

"The Captain, Dr. Banner, and Thor," Natasha supplied. "There's six of us, all together, though there's been some talk recently of adding more to the roster. We save the world."

"'_When the Dark comes rising, Six shall hold it back. Three from the circle, three from the track'_," Tony quoted absently, trying to get his head around the fact that he apparently saves the world for a living. It didn't feel like he had any super powers. Or maybe he just makes things for the team? Being Q probably wasn't too bad.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Steve said, looking at Tony with a slightly bewildered expression.

"Q is from James Bond, get Clint to show you the movies. And you do more than just give us tech, Tony," Natasha said, looking thoughtful. Did he say that bit out loud, or was it just this place and the link? "I didn't catch the first quote though. It's not one I know."

"That's a shame. Absolute tragedy," Tony said, feeling slightly offended that the reference wasn't recognized by either of them. "I don't remember the name of the book, but when I do, you're both getting a copy. I remember it being good."

"Never pegged you for much of a reader," Cap said, smiling lightly. "Guess I was wrong in thinking we had nothing in common."

"Nothing in common with Tony, not me," Tony insisted, since he honestly had no idea why he was a fountain of quotes.

"Right," Cap said, his voice indulgent. Tony focused on that rather than the towering castle. "So if I was Robinson Crusoe, stranded from my time, Mr. Hogan got a nursery rhyme, and Clint was... Clint was Captain Ahab, still angry with the Chitauri and Loki for what they did to him." Steve faltered, before visibly rallying himself. "What does that make Natasha?"

"Swan Lake," Natasha said, rolling her eyes. "That's stereotyping, To-" She cut herself off on the name at Tony's glare, shrugging. "Just because I'm Russian doesn't mean you have to make me the Swan Princess. You should know better. Though I guess I can't complain if you chose Swan Lake over the Spider and the Fly. You're more creative than the average idiots who try and make fun of my name. I'm surprised I'm a white swan, considering."

"Is it that far off base?" Tony asked, really looking at her. He could see the swan out of the corner of his eye, despite Natasha standing in front of him. He paused, and for a moment it was like he could almost see through her, which was a little terrifying. "Who are you anyway? The swan or Natasha?" he asked quietly. "_'Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.'_ I can't tell which one you are."

Natasha stopped walking, looking completely impassive as she returned his gaze. That didn't stop him from hearing what she didn't say, however. "You don't know either, do you?" he asked.

"No, not always," Natasha admitted, still not breaking eye contact. He could feel it, how she didn't know who she actually was half the time. How she was afraid of searching for her true self, only to find that nothing remained of it beyond the constructs they had made her into.

Steve took a step closer to her, touching her arm gently. Tony wished he knew how to react to that statement, to... comfort her, maybe? Which was odd, since he still didn't trust her, not really. He still wanted to do something, though. But all he could do was stand there while Steve seemed to know exactly what to do.

One more failure, unable to live up to Captain America. All in front of the Castle's watchful shadow too.

Natasha laid a hand on top of Steve's, before pulling away from him and walking over to Tony. He tensed as she pulled him into a hug, both unsure of her and how he should react. This wasn't like with Amora when she was flirting. This was different, like the hugs Steve and Clint gave him. "Are you trying to manipulate me?" he asked uncertainly. Because he didn't think Natasha would reach out like this on her own.

"Maybe," Natasha said, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck and pressing against him. Tony glanced at Steve, who just nodded as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around Natasha's back. "It's not like I know how to turn it off," Natasha continued. "I had to learn normal interactions, just like you did. But if I am manipulating you, it's because I want you to be happier. You aren't disappointing me, Tony. You aren't disappointing either of us."

Tony felt his eyes go wide, and it was a sudden struggle to breathe normally, though he didn't feel like he was drowning. She... Natasha wasn't lying. He'd have been able to tell, but this...

They were both swept up in a Cap-hug (like a bear hug, but better and with less fur) before he could find a response to that. Nestled between Natasha and Cap's biceps, Tony couldn't even see the Castle any more, even if he was still in its shadow. He let out a shaky breath, burrowing his face against Natasha's neck after a moment's indecision. If that was too intimate, she'd find a way to let him know. Probably painfully.

When she carded her hand through his hair, Tony figured that was a good sign. So hey, maybe he was starting to get the hang of this.

Was this his life? Cuddle piles and group hugs with his team? Tony was pretty okay with that, actually. He really was, even if he didn't know how to respond to it. Though, they were kind of on a time limit right now... "We should - I mean, we need to get going?"

Steve let go reluctantly, allowing both Tony and Natasha to step apart. Well, that was a little awkward, and it didn't help that he was sort of missing the warmth. How do you react after a group hug like that?

"You never said what archetype you fit into," Natasha said with a soft smile that felt surprisingly real for her. It was even weirder to know it was directed at him.

"Odysseus," Steve supplied, meeting her gaze shyly. "A man of many twists and turns, he said, looking for a way home."

"It fits," Natasha said, resuming their walk.

They walked silently for a while, Steve and Natasha acting as a barrier between him and the Castle. No matter how far they walked though, there was no end to the Castle's shadow. It was like it followed them, even though the sun didn't change its position fast enough to make the difference. Tony couldn't help glancing at the imposing structure nervously, wishing it didn't tower over everything.

"Is the sun moving?" Steve asked, also glancing up at the Castle suspiciously.

"I don't think so," Natasha said, looking at the sky and then back at Tony. "It seems a bit more complicated than that."

"Have you scouted the castle?" Steve asked. Tony trailed behind, trying to relax instead of tensing when Steve mentioned it out right.

"No one lives there that I could see. It's completely empty, except for the rats and the smell of alcohol," Natasha said. She watched Tony carefully as she spoke, and he couldn't help tapping on the arc reactor. Empty. That shouldn't surprise him. "How does it make you feel?"

Tony really didn't want to answer that question, but he doubted he could bluff any better than Natasha in this place. He was pretty sure they could both feel it from the Castle as well, anyway. "Small," Tony said, trying to keep his voice blank. "Cold. It... It really doesn't care, does it? Which is stupid, because of course a building doesn't care, it's not sentient. Except it does care a little. Enough to feel... disappointed. Or anger. Both at me, so maybe's sentient after all and holds a grudge? Did Tony blow it up?"

"Steve mentioned Happy Hogan got a nursery rhyme, which means your memories of him are bleeding through the barrier," Natasha said. "How did they manifest?"

"A boxing ring?" Tony asked, not entirely convinced that it had 'manifested' just for Tony's sake.

"Places then," Natasha said, glancing back up at the Castle. "Objects. This castle probably represents someone you know. Or knew. Given how it makes you feel, I'd assume it's your father, Howard Stark."

Tony stopped dead, though he couldn't have said if it was because of the name or the word 'father'. Either way, number Thirty-nine was a definite 'He doesn't like Howard Stark.'

"Howard?" Steve asked, looking back at the Castle in confusion. Then he looked back at Tony in surprise. "But he was-"

Tony must have blinked, because one second he was facing Steve, and the next he was staring at Natasha's back. "Don't," she said, her voice as cold as steel.

He looked between the two of them, because looking at the Castle was... Well, he didn't want to, now that he knew why he felt the way he did about it. Okay, no he didn't know, but giving it a name for some reason made it worse. At least Cap looked as baffled as he felt.

"Natasha?" Tony asked. She was standing in front of him like she was protecting him from Steve. Which, sure, he didn't like the guy, but Tony hardly needed protection from Captain America, right?

Natasha ignored him, though, not taking her eyes off Steve. "You know where we are, and Tony has no memories right now. If you talk about Howard, he'll believe you."

"I'm not going to lie to him," Steve said, now officially more confused than Tony. "I know the file said not to mention Howard, but he was-"

"Not the same person who raised Tony as the one you knew."

Tony blinked. Because _that_ made sense. "There are two Howard Starks?" Tony asked. The thought was enough to make him sick to his stomach.

"No," Natasha said, still not looking at him. "But the man Cap knew changed a lot before you were born."

Tony had no idea how to classify that information. If Steve knew his - knew Howard Stark, then why did Steve look younger? Were the dates in this place as screwed up as the rest of it? Fourteen: He _really_ hated magic. Tony missed logic.

"I still don't see why it's a bad thing to tell him now," Steve said stubbornly. "Maybe this time he'll actually listen."

Whatever expression was on Natasha's face, it was enough to make Captain America take a step back. "_He has no memories_," she said. "If you tell him Howard Stark was a good man, he'll know you're not lying. But look at the castle, Captain. You feel it just the same as I do, and we're only getting the residue of it from Tony. Disappointment, small, and angry, is what he said, but Tony didn't tell the whole truth. There's fear there too, and desperation and shame. It's _oppressive_. He made Tony feel that way, strong enough for it to bleed through when his memories are being repressed and we can't even move out of the damn thing's shadow." Tony felt like he should be protesting this, but the slight tremble in Natasha's shoulders kept him from saying anything. Besides, they were talking about Tony, not him, and it was kind of hard to deny when even catching the Castle out of the corner of his eye made him want to look at the ground and duck his head to get away from it.

"You want to tell him Howard Stark was a good man when he makes Tony feel like this?" Natasha asked, her voice cold.

Steve's eyes got wide at that, and he looked at Tony with a wounded expression full of guilt. Tony had to step up and say something, because even he didn't want to be that much of an asshole if Steve kept that up. "Look, it's fine, really," Tony said, keeping his eyes firmly away from the Castle. "If... If Howard changed since Cap met him, from a good guy to rats, alcohol, and disappointment, I can accept that. That's..." Tony swallowed and took a deep breath, because part of him didn't want to accept that at all. But it wasn't like he had much choice. "That's okay. I get it. Well, maybe not, considering Cap is younger than me and apparently knew my father who I can't even remember, which doesn't make sense at all, but that's not the weirdest thing that's happened here, right? Can we just get away from it?"

He fell under Natasha's scrutiny again, but this time she nodded. She may have seen the slight tremble in his hands, but if she didn't say anything about it, he wouldn't mention the worry he'd felt from her. He also decided not to mention the way she still put herself between him and Steve when Steve stepped forward, as though she was helpless to protect Tony from the Castle, but she was determined to do the next best thing.

"I'd like to apologize," Steve told her, hands up in surrender.

Finally, Natasha stepped aside, and Steve hesitantly walked up to him. "I wasn't thinking, and..." Steve sighed, then smiled weakly. "I guess I was being a little selfish. I don't know how - I still can't believe he would do this to you. Which isn't to say he didn't," the latter bit was added with a glance to Natasha. "But I've just... I wanted some connection to the past. I was frozen for 70 years-" Okay, that explained the time issues. Sort of. Still not the weirdest thing that happened in this place. "-and then I woke up, and I wanted to see him instead of you. That wasn't right, and I'm sorry."

Number Twenty: He hated Captain America. Possible cause: Cap preferred Howard Stark to Tony. That sucked. That sucked a lot, especially considering Tony wasn't sure if he could really blame Cap for preferring anyone to Tony.

But Tony smiled, patting Cap's biceps with a casualness that Tony mimicked from Clint. "No problem, Cap. Water under the bridge. I don't even remember it, so no biggie. Let's just keep moving."

Natasha and Cap traded baffled glances, and it took Tony a moment to realize what he'd done. He'd _lied_, and successfully, by cutting off whatever it was that connected them all in this place. Neither of them were convinced, but they had nothing from Tony to back up those suspicions.

Tony filed that information away with a star and several underlines. That was the first good thing he'd found out about this place. They started walking again, this time with Natasha and Cap conferring quietly while Tony resolutely ignored the Castle. He tapped at the arc reactor, mentally trying to focus on that new engine, though his mind was too distracted. He trashed several revisions because they weren't good enough, and he could feel the disappointment growing no matter how he kept his eyes down on the path.

"Is your arc reactor getting dimmer?" Natasha asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

_She knew_.

* * *

~TBC~

* * *

Memory: So there you have it. I swear, Tony's issues have issues. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that's the worst of the implied child abuse, so you should be good to go on that one. It's certainly not the last of the warnings we'll go through. If you want a hint of what's to come next week, the chapter title is one of the more well known Emily Dickenson poems. I'll leave you to figure out which one it might be from the warnings. It's weird to think this fic is now half finished...

Anyway, make sure to check out the note on next week's update before you start complaining about the next chapter being late. At least the cliff hanger isn't too bad on this one.

Also, please do review. I happen to like feedback, and as of yet not many people have felt the need to do so over here.

Quote of the Chapter:

"Once upon a time, I, Chuang Chou, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chou. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man. Between a man and a butterfly there is necessarily a distinction."  
-Zhuangzi, translated by Lin Yutang


	5. Because I could not stop for Death

Anthropos Polytropos

By: Memory Dragon

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amora the Enchantress, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan.

Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Implied bullying. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest. If you have any questions about the warnings, I'd be more than happy to clarify as best I can.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin for continuing to beta, despite certain scenes reminding you of creepy bits from Pan's Labyrinth. And many thanks to KRAlover and Margaret for reviewing!

Notes: So it's probably still Sunday for most of you, but I'll have you know I got up earlier just to be able to post this before I had to leave to catch my train. It's just barely 6 am here. Seriously, the things I do to make sure you guys get the chapter. You can also thank Nar for getting the chapter to me despite her busy schedule and a ready excuse on my end for her take the extra time if she needed it. Anyway, I'll be out of touch for a little while, so don't expect replies to comments until I'm recovered from having to take a Chinese hardsleeper train. I really hate train rides... .

This is probably one of the shortest chapters. It also has a fairly ominous name. Look to those warnings, people.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Because I could not stop for Death**

* * *

"Tony?" Cap asked. If Tony didn't know better, he'd have said there was some panic in his voice.

"I'm not Tony," he said, crossing his hands over the reactor protectively.

"It was brighter when I saw you in the boxing ring," Natasha said, her voice tight. "Don't say you haven't noticed. Why didn't you tell us?"

"Hey!" Tony yelped as Natasha tugged at his shirt, pulling it up to get a better view of the reactor. He ineffectively tugged it back down, because it was much more obvious that it wasn't as bright as it had been when he first saw it under the desk.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Cap asked. And, oh, God. Why did Cap even bother fighting his enemies? He could just show that disappointed frown and even a giant would feel two-feet tall and wish that it were a better person. It was almost worse than the Castle.

"I told you she gave me two days," Tony said. This time when he pushed his shirt down, Natasha let him, covering the scars that she had laid bare. He couldn't let her keep doing that. She was uncovering too much, and Tony couldn't shake the feeling that was a threat to him. "So it apparently goes out at the end of that time. Doesn't change anything."

The look Natasha and Cap traded was murderous. He glanced back at the Castle in hopes of a distraction - even normal guilt was preferable to Cap's disappointment - but froze at the sight. "Uh, guys? Those don't look friendly."

"This isn't over, Stark," Natasha said, pivoting to face the threat. "And I know you're not Stark," she added before he could protest.

Cap had already raised his shield, staring down at the army amassing at the base of the Castle. "Rats?" he said, throwing his shield at the nearest group. It knocked a few of them into the lake, but more replaced them. The rats started to come their way. "I don't remember any rats in The Swan Princess."

"They're getting bigger," Natasha said. "Captain, get him out of here."

"We're not leaving-"

"They're after me, not you. And you know it, Stark. Despite what you may think, you are not an acceptable loss," Natasha said calmly, pulling out a gun.

"Neither are you!" Tony shouted. Because this? This was not cool. At all. He grabbed hold of Natasha's arm, knowing that doing so was a death sentence from the Black Widow, but the ass-kicking he might get later as a result would be worth it as long as it got some sense into her.

She didn't turn on him immediately. He had just enough time to wonder if she had decided to come with them before she punched him in the gut, forcing the air out of his lungs as he crumpled over. "Just this once I am," she said in his ear as he gasped for breath. "But that doesn't mean I'll forgive you if you waste it. If you don't come out of this alive, Tony, I _will_ hold a grudge. Cap!"

"Natasha," Cap started as she handed Tony over to him.

"Just get out of here. Head west from here to the Shadows and keep him safe," Natasha demanded.

The air was being pushed out of him again along with a sense of vertigo as Tony suddenly found himself draped over Cap's shoulder in a fireman's carry. "No," he gasped breathlessly as he tried to fight Cap off, but any squirming was completely ineffective, and it dug Cap's broad shoulders further into his stomach where Natasha had punched him.

As Cap started running, Tony was able to look back just in time to see the rats reach Natasha. She fought off five of them that were almost as big as she was. She downed a sixth after some how getting on top of it and used a twist of her thighs to snap its neck. But soon she was shimmering, white feathers replacing the dark jumpsuit. As the swan dove at the rats' heads, a large rat with a crown upon its head snatched her by the neck and pulled her down to the ground. They converged on the bird, blinding white turning to bright red.

"No!" Tony fought for all he was worth to get free of Cap's grip. Cap stumbled briefly when Tony's foot connected with soft flesh - well, no there was nothing soft about Cap's stomach and now his foot kind of hurt - but the moment was short-lived and soon Tony found his legs completely immobilized. That still didn't stop him from trying.

He felt it when she died, a part of him was ripped apart and taken away. Tony stopped fighting after that, going limp on Cap's shoulder as he tried to block the screeches of triumph from the rats. There was no reason to fight anymore, if Natasha was... He couldn't even see the rats anymore, but that wasn't saying much since his eyes were blurring again with what he wasn't going to admit were tears. Especially not when he could feel the soft fall of rain that he could blame it on.

Cap kept running.

It was a while before they stopped, Cap panting for breath as he slowed to a stop. Tony could still hear the rain, but when he looked up, he saw they were near a building with a patio to shield them from the elements.

"Put me down," Tony heard himself say, a little surprised at the fury in his voice. He ignored the minute tremors from the body below him, focusing on the anger.

It took Cap a moment, but soon Tony was being placed on his feet, strong hands steadying him and lingering, like Cap needed the comfort. Tony slapped his hands away, taking a step back from him. Cap looked awful, leaning into one side of the building as if his muscles were cramped; his breath was still coming hard. He was pale, and haunted, far from his usual glowing self. They must have been running for longer than Tony thought for Captain America to be winded.

And how was that for crushing the dreams of one's heroes? _Captain America ran away and left someone behind._

"What was that about? Captain America couldn't stop for death, so it kindly stopped for Natasha?" Tony snarled. "You _left_ her. Just like you left Clint!"

"There wasn't..." Cap gasped, closing his eyes as if he couldn't stand to look at Tony. "There wasn't any choice," he said finally, the trembling of his shoulders growing more pronounced.

Tony punched him.

Cap sprawled back, looking up in shock as he touched his chin. It was worth the sharp, stinging pain across Tony's knuckles to see the shock on Cap's face. "There's always a choice," Tony hissed. "We could have stayed! We could have helped them fight. But you _ran away_ each time, dragging me with you!"

Steve made no move to get off the ground, and every word Tony said left his eyes more wounded. "It would have killed you!" Steve protested

"But we could have saved them!" Tony countered, his hands fisting as he held back the desire to pound that chiseled jaw line into the pavement. "They were idiots for going into those fights without back up, but _you_. You could have stopped them! But you ran away instead!"

Now there was anger along with hurt in Cap's eyes. "It was their choice!" he shouted back. "We have to respect that and move on so we don't waste-"

"That's a load of bull, Cap, and you know it," Tony interrupted, not wanting to hear it.

"It was _their choice_," Cap said a little desperately, picking himself off the ground.

"Yeah?" Tony asked, gesturing angrily at the storm as he moved into Cap's personal space. He was about five seconds from hitting the man again, and Tony didn't feel remotely remorseful for wanting to pound a national icon to paste. "Maybe it was their choice, and great, let's all be self-sacrificing idiots. But you know what, Cap? It was your choice to run away! Your choice to leave them! We could have saved them!"

There Cap faltered, and Tony felt a twisted satisfaction as Cap took a step back and swallowed. "We have to protect you in this place. They should be... they should be fine."

"I felt them die," Tony said. "Both of them are _dead_, Cap. And I don't see anyone else here to blame! You're Captain America! You're supposed to save them!"

"I..." Cap closed his eyes again, his breath coming in staccato bursts. Tony felt a brief flash of guilt, because it wasn't Cap's fault, not really. Cap wasn't the one with a direct connection to this place. If anyone was at fault, it was Tony.

It was Tony's fault, so he lashed out in the only way he could, channeling all his guilt and anger into his words and flinging them at Cap. "We could have stopped it!" Tony repeated, backing Cap against the wall of the building. "But you ran away and left them to die, using me as a pretense to be a coward!"

"Please, Tony..."

But that was exactly the wrong thing to say. "_I'm not Tony!_" A loud clap of thunder rang across the sky.

Instead of responding, Cap barreled into him, tackling Tony to the ground. Tony cried out in pain as his wounded back hit the pavement. His vision tunneled as he fought to keep consciousness, and Cap covered him, holding Tony down.

"Get off!" he yelled, pushing at Cap as another clap of thunder sounded overhead. The sound shook through him, ringing like cannon fire, and screaming, and the sounds of battle roaring all around them. The snow was so _cold_.

Tony gasped as Cap clung to him, a barrage of images filtering through the link. "Stay down," Cap said, still not letting Tony up. His voice was panicked, as Tony got another flash of images - there was no battle, Tony realized with a start. The images - a train loud on the tracks, guns that rang in his ears, and Bucky falling - and it was _his fault_.

"Steve," Tony gasped. He didn't know who Bucky was, but he could feel Steve's hurt. He'd lost Bucky, Clint, and Natasha, and _it was his fault_. He hadn't been strong enough or fast enough and he'd _failed_. He couldn't let that happen to Tony. He couldn't... but what if he failed Tony too?

"You won't," Tony choked out, struggling to keep his thoughts apart from Steve's. The feelings were so strong that they were nearly overwhelming. "Cap... Steve, there's no - There's no train. No battle. It's just the rain, not snow. Come on, Steve, look at me. There's no gun fire."

Steve didn't look up, but Tony felt some of the feelings subside and the unsettling cold faded until he was warm again. Steve hid his face against Tony's shoulder, shaking as he clutched at the engineer.

For his part, Tony rubbed his back, trying to remember what Clint had done for him after his flashback. He glanced nervously at the sky, but the storm was subsiding. Hopefully there would be no more thunder.

"Steve? Hey, it's okay." Tony's hand stopped for a moment before he remembered he was supposed to keep it moving. "It wasn't your fault. I was just angry and this place doesn't make any sense. But if it was anyone's fault, it was mine, alright? I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault."

So Tony laid there on the ground, still damp from the rain and with the pavement crushing painfully against his back as he desperately tried to calm down Captain America in the middle of a PTSD attack. How was this his life? At least... It was hard to tell with his clothes being wet, but he didn't think Steve was actually crying. This way of coping didn't exactly feel very healthy though. Tony was getting the feeling that maybe Steve needed to cry.

Finally, Steve's trembling slowed to a halt, his shoulders rising and falling with a steadier breathing rhythm. Tony was still pinned under over 200 pounds of pure muscle, so as much as he may have wanted to wiggle away or fidget, it really wasn't an option. "Steve?" he said after a pause for breath in his babbling.

Steve pulled back slowly, as if he didn't want to give up the touch. Well, that was good, right? That meant he hadn't failed completely at comfort. But oh, he hurt. Tony winced as he sat up on his elbows. He may like being pinned down (further proof for number Thirty-six), but he preferred a lot less pain. Forty: Pain is not a turn-on.

Neither was guilt, which had just quadrupled. It took him a moment to realize the guilt wasn't his for once. "Tony," Steve said, hands around his shoulders to help him sit up as Steve now scrambled off him. "Your back! I'm sorry. I didn't-" _He'd failed again._

"Would you stop calling me that?" Tony asked, with half a mind to just push Steve away again along with his thoughts that didn't belong in Tony's head. Except he wasn't sure he could handle much more of Steve's guilt. He had more than enough of his own, thanks.

Steve just moved behind him, hands gently checking over the bandages. "I'm sorry," he said again, and Christ, the guilt was almost palpable, leaving a bad taste in Tony's mouth.

Tony sighed. It was his fault Steve got that bad. He couldn't even tell where his guilt started and Steve's ended. It was getting a little ridiculous. "Look, it's alright. I'm fine, just a little sore. You don't have to feel so - What?"

Steve's guilt just... stopped. It felt a bit like the floor had been ripped out from under Tony, the cessation was so abrupt. Tony twisted around to look at Steve, half afraid Steve had disappeared or died like the others. But Steve was still there, his face blank, like he was packing all of that emotion away into the furthest recess of his mind. Tony almost missed the overwhelming guilt. "Look, I don't think I'm the sort of person with good coping habits, but that can't be healthy," he said to cover his uncertainty.

"We need to get going again, or-"

"Or what? My reactor will go out? Old news. So this is a thing you've got going on, apparently, but that I can put a stop to." Tony stared up at Steve, daring him to contradict him. He was being an ass again, but not being able to sense Steve at all though the link was disquieting, and the feeling was getting worse.

Tony didn't have to wait long for the contradiction though. Steve dared. "That's not important right now!"

"It is, actually," Tony said, pushing himself off the ground and brushing himself off. "Because I've decided it is and, hey, we don't have to keep going. I'm sure I can find my way back to the desk without too much effort."

Steve's eyes widened at the threat, letting some emotion through. Panic and anger, granted, but it was better than nothing, and Tony felt his chest loosen in relief. "You can't," Steve said, fury in his voice. "Don't you dare, Tony. You can't just give up now!"

"Why not?" Tony asked, keeping an eye on the storm and forcing himself to stay calm. "It's working for you. You just pack everything away rather than actually living!"

"Why does it matter to you?" Steve shouted back, his knuckles pale where he gripped his shield. "You hate me, right? So why does it matter?"

That... was a very good question. Why did he care if Captain America had crappy ways of dealing with his emotions? So it wasn't healthy. As Tony said, Twenty-three: he hates feelings, and a revision of Twenty-three B, he sucks at dealing with them, so there was probably a decent amount of hypocrisy going on here (Nineteen).

"Because this is..." Tony started, not sure of how to go on. "The end result, it's unacceptable. The output is all wrong, which means I'm feeding it the wrong input and the code is broken. And that's just completely unacceptable, because I should be able to fix the code and-"

"I'm not a machine, Tony," Steve said, but the anger was slipping away from him and he was no longer shouting. Which was good, because Tony wasn't sure the storm would stay at bay if they got into another full argument. Natasha had kept an eye on the weather, so he assumed it meant something with his connection to this place.

"I know," Tony said, looking down. "I'm just... I'm trying."

Relief flooded through him as he felt Cap release his vise grip on his emotions, letting Tony pick up on the surface of his feelings again. That was... not exactly better, but getting there. "You are," Cap said, coming closer again and hesitantly touching Tony's shoulder. "Which is what I asked you to do. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you for that."

"You also shouldn't call me Tony," he said, only partially managing to keep the uncertainty out of his voice. Still, it was better than the sulky tone that also threatened to sneak through. Twenty-three, still holding true.

"Yeah, sorry," Steve said, for a moment looking like he was going to hug Tony again. Instead, he continued hesitantly. "Can we... If I promise to talk to you about it once we're out of here, can we drop it for now? This place..."

This place amplified feelings, making them impossible to hide. Yeah, asking about Cap's problems here was kind of a dick move. "I - sure. That can work. It's fine. Are you okay?"

Steve leaned down a little, closing his eyes and touching his forehead to Tony's. "No," he answered with a shaky breath. "But you're the one with the time limit, not me."

"Priorities, right. That's logical." Tony stood still, not sure what to do. Should he touch Steve's shoulder, like Steve kept doing to him? Or... They were close enough for kissing, but even Tony could tell that wasn't appropriate right now. It felt like that was the only kind of physical affection he knew about though, which was frustrating.

Before he could decide on a course of action, Steve pulled away again, this time to look up at the building. A mansion, now that Tony was bothered to noticed it. "What is it?" he asked curiously.

Steve looked at him in surprise, before shaking his head. "I think this is the place Howard lived in during the war. I went there once or twice before I was sent over-seas, but this place looks a bit more worn. Older."

Tony flinched at Howard's name, though he didn't get the same feeling from the mansion as he did from the Castle. "Let's go then. Probably nothing to see in there," Tony said, trying to decide which way was west.

"Are you sure?" Cap asked dubiously. "We still haven't found Thor or Bruce. They could have gone in to escape the storm."

"It's empty," Tony said. "Just... trust me on that. It always is."

He couldn't have said how he knew that, but it was true. That didn't help the sad look Steve gave him though. The look was starting to get grating. Tony walked around the building to avoid it, not bothering to make sure Steve followed. It didn't take long to walk around the house and then take off in the direction Tony assumed was west.

It was quiet for a while, which was driving Tony insane. He didn't like quiet on good days, but right now? He kept thinking of Natasha and Clint. This place reacted to Tony, which meant the storm would only get worse if Tony started down that path, and he didn't want the thunder to upset Steve again.

But if that were true, then why couldn't he have stopped them from dying? The materials in the desk, the engine, and the pad of paper - they all changed because of him. The danger to them didn't appear until Tony realized they were getting too close. So had his mind summoned those things? It was logical. Even if Amora had influence over this place, Tony should have been able to stop them. He should have been able to do _something_, other than just let Steve drag him off.

Hey, apparently it was all his fault. And he'd blamed it all on Steve.

"It's not your fault," Steve said softly, interrupting his thoughts.

Tony turned to look at him, noting that he was still too pale and that he didn't look nearly as much the pinnacle of human perfection while sporting the drowned rat look. The kid looked so earnest, like he actually believed Tony wasn't to blame, even after all Tony had been forced to give away in this place. "That's not true," Tony said, not feeling his fury from earlier, or the tears. He just felt tired.

Steve didn't say anything more, and Tony kept moving forward.

The rain stopped eventually, though the sky was still dark with the threat of an on-coming storm. Tony decided to test his theory while they walked, if just to keep him from thinking about Clint and Natasha. If he were really in control of this place, then there was no reason for him to be trudging through a forest with wet clothes.

First, he tried commanding his clothes dry. When that didn't work, he tried thinking dry thoughts. He thought he caught a glimpse of Steve smiling as Tony muttered under his breath, but he still wasn't dry.

"Fourteen: I still hate magic," Tony said finally, no more dry than when he'd started.

"Maybe you gotta stop thinking about it?" Steve suggested.

Tony looked over at Steve who was no longer hiding the thicker Brooklyn accent behind a polite wall. He was more _there_ than he had been earlier, and Tony had enough evidence to say the accent came out when Steve was more relaxed. Steve still looked pale, but Tony was willing to bet he'd convinced himself that Clint and Natasha were somehow still okay outside of this Tony-themed Wonderland.

Tony wished he could have that kind of faith. "This is ridiculous. Magic is ridiculous. Besides, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Arthur C. Clarke. A futurist like me - am I? That makes Forty-one - should be able to figure it out." Tony briefly wondered who Arthur C. Clarke was, but the look of confusion on Steve's face kept him from asking. He knew a lost cause when he saw one.

It was then Tony noticed they weren't in a forest any more. They were in some sort of wide hallway without any doors and sleek, black walls. "When..?" Tony asked, a little shaken by the sudden change.

"When you weren't thinking about it," Steve said. "It was strange, but I didn't want to interrupt you. Also, you're dry now."

Tony realized with a start that he was, in fact, dry. Even his socks weren't soggy any more, and Steve looked dry as well. Had this happened earlier too? They'd started out in a jungle, but they'd been walking through a forest when they found Natasha.

"It's going to be okay," Steve said finally, rubbing small circles with his thumb on Tony's arm. Tony hadn't even noticed him move. "We're going to get you out of this place."

"I don't like it here," Tony said. He wanted to lean into Steve's chest, remembering how warm and _solid_ it was, unlike this place.

"I know." Steve's voice turned gentle as he pulled Tony in for a real hug, if a brief one. "But we're not going to let the Enchantress keep you here, I promise."

Tony nodded against Steve's neck, before pulling away. He looked down the hall and tried not to let his shoulders tense. A short glace down at his reactor told him it was definitely dimmer now, but it was still glowing.

"Let's go," Steve said, hovering until Tony started forward. There was a door at the far end of the hallway, and it didn't take long for them to get there. Tony was relieved, because he didn't want to think about what an endless hallway would have done to his nerves.

The doorknob turned easily in his hands, so at least he wasn't making things harder on them by adding a lock. On the other side of the door was a long table set with a feast. There were all sorts of foods on the table, from burgers and fries to some sort of meat wrap that looked surprisingly tasty. The alcohol wasn't lacking either. The odd part was that none of it made him feel hungry. He looked over the candlelit table without any desire to actually eat any of his favorite foods.

"That's an odd feast," Steve said after a moment of taking it in. "Shawarma and burgers? You've only had shawarma once, and that was just recently. I'm surprised it got past the memory block."

"Maybe it was a strong memory? And what is this, comfort food?" Tony asked. Except the comfort food bit would only make sense if he were hungry, which he wasn't. He walked around the table, hand trailing along the wooden chairs.

Steve reached over the table to poach a fry off one of the plates. "I wouldn't eat that," Tony warned just as Steve opened his mouth.

"Why not?" Steve asked, looking at the fry in confusion.

"Because I'm suddenly remembering quotes about feasters who fall asleep for years upon eating."

Tony did not laugh as Steve dropped the french fry with a startled yelp, but it was a near thing. He still got a glare of disapproval for his grin, but that was one kicked puppy Tony could handle.

He looked over the feast again, trying to puzzle it out. The comfort food was obvious, but the rest of it..? "The desk, bed, and taser are undetermined, but the boxing ring was that chauffeur you mentioned, the castle was... Howard." Tony faltered over the name, somehow unable to call him dad. "That mansion was my old home. The jungle was for you, the ship for Clint, and the forest for Natasha, so what is this supposed to represent? Do I have a cook or something?"

"It's not anyone I know of. You said it was comfort food, so someone who comforts you?" Steve suggested.

"I don't really feel comforted," Tony said. In fact, he felt more daunted by it than anything, given the fact it was potentially dangerous to eat.

"Someone who knows you that well?" That suggestion sounded even weaker than the first, so Tony just ignored it. He went to stand at the head of the table, eying the chair there thoughtfully. He didn't feel any sort of strong emotion from it or the rest of the table, other than minor annoyance.

Instead of taking the head chair, Tony sat in one to the right of it. "We should probably keep moving," Steve said uncertainly.

Tony hesitated, tapping the slowly dimming reactor absently as he took one last look at the table. Something strawberry red - no, not strawberry. Those were bad for some reason, though he couldn't think of why - a pepper shaker? A red pepper shaker. He reached out for it automatically, wondering how he'd missed it the first time. It was the most brilliant thing on the table, and now Tony could barely look away from it much less contemplate how he hadn't seen it before. Frighteningly efficient too. Tony felt like he could improve most things, but this little pepper shaker felt completely out of reach to him, despite how he currently held it in his hands.

"Ms. Potts," Steve said after he saw the shaker.

"Potts?" Tony asked, feeling frustrated as he found a connection but the name didn't sound familiar at all. Shouldn't he feel some recognition towards the name?

"Virginia Potts, the CEO of Stark Industries, your company," Steve explained, but Tony felt nothing from the information. "You call her Pepper," he added as an afterthought.

Pepper Potts. Still nothing. He'd felt an automatic reaction to the name Howard, so why not Pepper or Hogan? He felt far better with the boxing ring and the pepper shaker than the Castle. It was a riddle without an answer, and Tony couldn't help but feel some sympathy for Alice, even if he didn't know who Alice was.

He opened the pepper shaker, peering inside. No actual pepper or door mice, but it didn't feel empty like the mansion had. "Who is she to Tony?" he asked, wishing he knew.

"When I asked Agent Barton about it, he said you two were... I think the phrase was 'Facebook complicated'," Steve said, looking just as perplexed as Tony felt. There's that phrase again, Facebook complicated. Tony apparently needed to ask someone more up to date than Captain America about it. "I'm not really sure what that meant, but Agent Romanov said you were both in an on-again, off-again sort of relationship. But you both seem to care a lot about each other."

"Undefined," Tony muttered to himself, though that explained contradictory unreachable feelings and why he didn't want to let it go. "Also, why was I expecting to find a door mouse in here? And who's Alice?"

"You're thinking of the teapot," Steve said with a small smile. "And it's from a book called _Alice in Wonderland_."

"Another quote then," Tony said absently, running his fingers along the smooth and elegant sides of the pepper shaker.

"Why don't you take it with us?" Steve suggested, touching Tony's shoulder again like he couldn't help it. "That way we can keep moving, because I don't think Ms. Potts would forgive me if we don't get you out of here. We've got a time limit to beat."

"You shouldn't beat time. '_He won't stand beating_'," Tony said, wishing for a moment that she were here instead of Captain America. But on second thought, he really didn't think he could bear if if she was killed by this place as well. Maybe it was better just to have a reminder. Like the taser, this was one he could take with him. "Yeah, that sounds great. Good plan, Cap."

He gave the table one last look before standing and tucking the pepper shaker into his pocket. He hoped it would be more secure than the taser had been. "How do we know we're going the right way?" Tony asked. The building was not giving any sign of directing them westward.

"I reckon whatever direction you pick will be right, so long as you want to get to the Shadows," Steve said, and wasn't that the most comforting thought? Actually, no, it wasn't. Tony hated this place.

They passed through several more rooms, some blank, some filled with machinery and wires. Neither of them stopped to look too closely. Tony, because he knew it was something his hyper-active mind had come up with in downtime, and Steve because it made no sense to him. Finally, they came to a bigger room that was full of mirrors.

"That's... a lot of them," Steve said, looking around with wide eyes. 'It's almost like a fun house."

"There's nothing fun about it," Tony snapped. The brief hug he received in response didn't help his temper any. Though he much preferred the hug to watching Steve step out into all those mirrors and having thousands of Captain Americas gesturing him to come forward.

"It's not so bad," Steve said as Tony took a hesitant step out. He kept his eyes on the real Steve as he tried to avoid the dizzying effect of his own reflections. "Here, take my hand so we don't get separated," Steve said.

The first hand Tony reached for ended up as a mirror, but Steve reached for him without any problem before he could start to panic, and the squeeze of his fingers was reassuring. Steve tugging him forward only made him feel sick though.

"You can close your eyes if you need to," Steve said. "I think the serum is helping me see the mirrors better without the disorientation."

Tony tensed at the suggestion of walking through this blind, but Steve's thumb on the back of his hand was soothing. Taking a deep breath, Tony let his eyes fall shut. Slowly, the vertigo he'd been feeling started to fade.

After a moment, he felt a tug on his hands and Tony let Steve lead him through the maze of mirrors. They had only been walking for a minute or so when he heard Steve take a sharp breath. "What is it?" Tony asked. He opened his eyes and immediately regretted it.

"There's a body over there," Steve said, his voice strained. "And I think it's Dr. Banner."

* * *

~TBC~

* * *

Memory: Now I've gotten the obligatory Wonderland quoting out of the way. I've already mentioned Oz, so I think I should be covered on the must quotes for a fic of this nature. XD Though I would like to point out to my beta reader that no matter how hilarious it would have been, this is not Duck Amuck. Though I really sort of want that now, with Tony Daffy and Steve Bugs Bunny.

This was actually the chapter that convinced me to write this fic. When I was toying with the idea of it and bemoaning how long it would be, I kept thinking of Natasha as a white swan being torn apart by the Rat King from the Nutcracker, and really, I couldn't resist that. I'm not sure if that says more about my sadism, or the fact that I've just been in too many ballets.

The next chapter with Bruce, I went with the fairly obvious literary reference, mostly because I couldn't resist. It might be a little late, depending on how much time I need to recover from this whole Beijing trip, but I'll make sure to get it out some time next week. Please do review and let me know what you think about the current chapter.

Quote of the Chapter: (because Tony totally butchered it in the chapter...)

"Because I could not stop for Death –  
He kindly stopped for me –  
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –  
And Immortality."  
-Emily Dickinson


	6. The Primitive Duality of Man

Anthropos Polytropos  
By: Memory Dragon  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.  
Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Implied bullying. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest. If you have any questions about the warnings, I'd be more than happy to clarify as best I can.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin for continuing to beta, even when I've managed to actually confuse her with my word switches this time. I'm still surprised she didn't catch something was off with 'petting' when I meant 'petty'. XD Also, regardless of what she might say, no tea was killed or harmed in the making of this fic. Also thanks to Margaret for reviewing.  
Notes: So that warning about minor self-harm? That's this chapter. Tony is not entirely aware of what he's doing and a lot of it is subconscious, but there are mentions of it and one particular instance where he holds something sharp a bit too tight without thinking about it. Just be aware of that, if that's one of your triggers. On the plus side, there's plenty of cuddles. Just in case I didn't already have way too many in this fic...

* * *

Chapter Five: The Primitive Duality of Man

* * *

Dr. Banner? The name didn't mean a thing to Tony, and all he could see was green in the mirror. It was like the Emerald City, where one needed special glasses to see anything while walking around, and he had to close his eyes again. "Okay, I'll just stay here while you check on him," Tony said, willing his hand not to tense around Steve's and betray what he really thought of that plan.

"I don't want to chance losing track of you here," Steve said. The hand around his squeezed almost too tightly. "We'll keep going as we are."

"But what if he needs help? You'll move faster without me!" Tony said, attempting to pull his hand away, because really, Thirteen was tried and true when it came to his self-preservation instincts. "Just go! I'll be fine."

"Tony..." Steve said warningly.

"I'm not-"

"Not Tony, sorry," Steve finished for him, not sounding particularly sorry at all. Tony wished he could open his eyes long enough to glare. "But this isn't a negotiation. I'm not dealing with an angry Dr. Banner just because I left you behind. Both him and the other guy are way too attached to you."

With that, Tony stumbled forward as Steve pulled on his hand. "Let go!" Tony seethed.

"If you don't stop fighting, I will carry you again."

At that threat, Tony started to walk forward grudgingly. He wasn't sure how his stomach would handle being tossed over Steve's shoulder again. Tony hissed a few minutes later, "Haven't you found him yet?"

"It's... It's hard to tell where he is, with all the Hulks in the mirrors," Steve said, his voice sounding more than a little strained. There was a soft thunk. Steve cursed and muttered about the mirrors. Tony regretted having his eyes closed for that one.

It took five more minutes; Tony stayed silent. Steve seemed to need the concentration, and Tony was through with talking to the bastard after that stunt. But he did take a little bit of pleasure when he heard Steve repeatedly collide into the mirrors.

"I think we found him," Steve said finally, tugging Tony down to the ground. "Don't open your eyes."

It was too late for that, but Tony quickly closed them again. If he weren't mistaken, the reflections had gotten a lot worse. "Is he okay?"

"I..." He heard Steve take a deep breath. "It's hard to tell with all the mirrors, but it feels like he's breathing. He might've been overwhelmed by them."

"We need to get out of here," Tony said, feeling the ground with his free hand. He felt fabric first, then what felt like a shoulder. Tony traced down the arm, relieved to find that Dr. Banner's hand was warm. He was starting to get feelings of disorientation from Steve, so he could only imagine how the mirrors might over power a normal person.

"I need you to grab hold of my belt so I can carry Dr. Banner," Steve said as he guided Tony's hand to the utility belt, making sure Tony's fingers were curled around it before moving away. A rather disappointing grope, but Tony didn't dare tease when he could feel Steve getting worse. Getting out of here first, teasing later. "Don't let go," Steve said.

"So you'll sling me over your shoulder, but Dr. Banner gets the princess treatment?" Tony said. There was no heat to the statement though, and he had Steve's belt in a death grip. Getting lost in this place was not on his to-do list.

"It's hard to tell if he has any injuries. Don't want to jostle him too much." Tony heard shuffling, then Steve stood up and Tony had to scramble to his feet after him. "Ready?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Tony replied, and they were off again.

Steve's pace was slower this time, but Tony still couldn't keep a mental map of where they were going. There were too many twists and turns for him to follow. Tony felt frustrated, because he _should_ be able to make sense of this mess. Even without being able to see, he should be able to keep track of their movements in his head, but his thoughts were starting to feel foggy and distracted. How much of this feeling was him, or was it Steve's feelings that he was getting from this place?

"Steve..." Tony said after what felt like an eternity.

"I-I think there's a door up ahead," Steve said, his voice hoarse and breathing uneven. Tony felt alarm spike through him, but Steve continued on before he could ask. "I'm okay."

He didn't _sound_ okay, but Tony bit his lip to keep from saying anything that might distract Steve. Instead, he shifted over to grab hold of Steve's belt with his far hand, moving the near one up to rub at the tension in Steve's shoulder blades.

He heard Steve take a shudder-y breath at the contact and Tony stilled his hand, wondering if he was doing something wrong.

"You're fine," Steve said, his voice just above a whisper. Tony didn't know if it was the link or if he'd actually said all of that out loud. "That helped. I-I just... We're getting out, I promise."

That was less of a promise to Tony and more to himself, but Tony didn't comment. He hesitantly resumed the small circles right between Steve's shoulder blades. It wasn't a lot, but he could feel some of the tension ease out of Steve's back.

That didn't stop him from nearly breaking his nose against Steve's back when he stopped suddenly. Was there any part of Captain America that _wasn't_ hard muscle?

"C-can you feel for the doorknob?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. Close your eyes while I reach for it," Tony said, listening for Steve's relieved out rush of breath that signaled he'd complied. Keeping one hand on Steve's belt, he carefully moved around, free hand out in front of him as he felt for the wall. He found it after a few seconds and started looking for the doorknob. Thankfully, it was easy enough to find, and it wasn't long before he was pushing the super-soldier through the door.

Tony pulled the door shut behind him, finally risking a glance around the room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when he did, he groaned.

"Tony?"

He snapped his head over to Steve at the sound of his voice, the motion making him a little dizzy. But Steve... Christ, how had he not noticed or felt it through the link? Steve was sweating, his shoulders shaking in sharp, uneven breaths. His eyes were still closed as he clutched at Dr. Banner.

"Here, let me - There aren't any more mirrors. Well, there are three, but they're on the other side of the room and you can ignore them. Just - Come on, let me take Dr. Banner. You should sit down." Tony kept talking as he tried to pull Dr. Banner away, but Steve wouldn't let go. "It's okay, Steve. Rest for a bit!"

"No time. Your reactor..." Steve gasped out.

"Still glowing," Tony said, only just remembering he was trying to hold on to Dr. Banner and couldn't tap at it. "And we've got to wait for Dr. Banner to wake up. So just rest for a bit and get your bearings. I'll take care of Dr. Banner."

That finally got a reaction out of Steve. Tony found himself with an armful of Dr. Banner as Steve collapsed to the floor.

Tony looked down at the scruffy-looking man in his arms. His glasses were askew and he was in severe need of a haircut. Scratch that. A severe need of a wardrobe. The baggy look didn't flatter anyone. When he got out of here, he was taking Banner shopping, because that was a crime against nature.

At least he didn't look hurt. Steve, on the other hand, was still having trouble breathing. It almost looked like an asthma attack, but that was ridiculous. The super-soldier serum would have done away with that, but Tony couldn't leave either of them like this.

With a sigh, he set Dr. Banner down and sat next to Steve, pulling Banner into his lap. He made sure their shoulders were touching as he checked Dr. Banner's head for any injury. "Breathe, Cap."

"Banner-"

"-doesn't appear to have a head injury," Tony interrupted, which wasn't hard to do considering Steve could barely get out a two-syllable name even forgoing the title. "Try to match my breathing, alright? We've both right here and we're fine, and you can close your eyes if you're still dizzy."

He had the feeling Steve wanted to argue, but he didn't really have the breath for it. So Tony breathed, making sure his shoulders rose slowly, and checked over the sleeping Dr. Banner in his lap. In different circumstances, this would have been an awesome night. Banner, despite the scruffiness, wasn't too bad on the eyes and you'd have to be blind not to appreciate Captain America. Sadly, he didn't think an awesome threesome would happen any time soon.

At least Steve was calming down, and Tony couldn't say he disliked it when Captain America rested his head against Tony's shoulder. It was sort of a warm, fuzzy feeling that should have given him hives (Twenty-three: He hated feelings, except for warm fuzzy ones?), but for now he could tolerate it.

Finally, Dr. Banner stirred in his lap, groaning softly. "You alright?" Tony asked, feeling oddly anxious over someone he'd just met. There was an undercurrent of feeling that he got from Dr. Banner, but it was too low to tell what it was, other than that it was constant.

"I'm fine, just a little dizzy still," Dr. Banner said, turning to face Tony without moving from his lap. He righted the glasses and then smiled up at him. "Tony. I'm glad you're okay."

The genuine concern on Dr. Banner's face sent another flush of warmth through Tony. He almost forgot to protest his name, but hey, sulking was so much more preferable to acknowledging _feelings_. "I'm not Tony," he said, feeling like he should be doing something with his hands to help Bruce, but unsure of what.

Dr. Banner blinked at him from behind his glasses. "You look like Tony," he said, glancing over at Steve who started to open his mouth.

"No, _you_ just keep breathing," Tony said, getting a glare for his efforts and not caring. He tapped the side of his own head to draw Dr. Banner's attention. "Tony has memories. He knows you guys. I've got nothing, beyond the occasional quote or two and strong feelings. So I'm not Tony."

"Amnesia," Dr. Banner said thoughtfully. Tony helped him sit up, but Dr. Banner didn't meet his eyes. "That makes sense, if she was trying to turn you against us." He glanced over at Steve, frowning lightly. "Are you alright, Captain?"

Steve nodded against Tony's shoulder. His breathing was still shallow, but his color was much better than it had been. "He navigated the mirror maze," Tony explained. "If it weren't for the serum, I'd say he had some sort of asthma attack by the time we got out."

"I'm feeling better," Steve said, still too breathless. "I'm just not used to it any more. I haven't had an attack since before the serum, so I don't know why..."

"It's this place," Dr. Banner explained, rubbing his temples. "Your body still remembers how it used to react when that sort of stress was put on it. Fighting and other exercise you're used to, but the disorientation probably tricked your mind into reacting the way your body used to."

"So it's another reason this place sucks?" Tony asked, glad for once that it wasn't a personal reason for him this time.

"That's one way of putting it," Dr. Banner said dryly.

"So then, Dr. Banner, you're part of this... team or whatever we're calling ourselves?" Tony asked.

"The Avengers. And the Other Guy is." Dr. Banner had a small, self-depreciating smile that Tony felt didn't do the good doctor justice. "And you call me Bruce. You haven't called me Dr. Banner since you offered me a ride after seeing Thor and Loki off."

Bruce. Brucie. Snookums. Cookie, short for Cookie Monster, which seemed to have a story behind it that he couldn't remember. And... there were more names, but Tony felt like he was missing some bit of important information to be able to access them. "I think you should be. On the team, I mean. I like you," Tony said, surprised at the admission and the feeling. Bruce was bound to have way more qualifications to be on a team like this than Tony did.

That got a small laugh out of Bruce, which was a nice sound. Tony got the feeling Bruce didn't laugh near as often as he should, which totally wasn't cool. It should be against the law that Bruce didn't laugh enough. Him and Steve. What was it with this team being sour pusses? "I don't have a lot to offer the team as me," Bruce replied.

"You're a doctor, right?" Tony said, feeling offended on Bruce's behalf, since that was unacceptable. "I bet you can do all sorts of doctor-y things."

"I'm not really that kind of doctor," Bruce said, but he looked like he was giving in.

"Tony's right," Steve added over Tony's insistence that of course he was right, and don't call him that. "You do a lot for the team in both forms, Dr. Banner."

"Both forms?" Tony regretted asking when Bruce stiffened. He'd been tense since he woke up, but the conversation had been relaxing him slowly. Now they were back at square one.

"The Other Guy. You don't want to meet him," Bruce said, then continued on before Tony could protest. "If you don't want to be called Tony, what should we call you?"

There was still no good answer for that. "I don't have a clue," Tony said, an edge of frustration in his voice. He looked down at Steve with a glare. "You might as well call me Teddy, since I'm apparently everyone's personal teddy-bear."

Steve did not grace that with any response other than to cuddle closer. Bastard. "See what I put up with?" Tony asked.

"I'm sure you're very cuddly," Bruce said.

"That's slander. I'll sue," Tony shot back just as Steve said "Very cozy." Steve's breath ghosted against Tony's neck in a manner that sent shivers down his spine, which was just not cool. "You should try it too," Steve added unhelpfully.

So _not_ cool. "Oh, so you'll answer him, but not me?" Tony asked, poking Steve in the ribs. Or tried to, before Tony realized he'd have better luck breaking his finger against the abs of steel. Not fair. "I am not cuddly. I don't know where you're coming up with this faulty hypothesis, but it is completely unfounded and the theory isn't - Hey! What? Bruce!"

"I'm testing the data. Captain Rogers's hypothesis is correct," Bruce said, snuggled up to Tony's other side. "You _are_ comfy."

"Am not. You're just agreeing with him because it's annoying," Tony said, freezing slightly. Once again, unsure of how to react. Steve was pretty much a snuggle bug (that's going on Cap's list of names), taking cuddles regardless of Tony knowing what to do. But Bruce's arm around his back pulled Tony closer and left him with no idea what to do with his own hands.

"You can keep them in your lap, or you can wrap your arm around my back. It's okay for you to lean into the hug too," Bruce said softly.

"How do you guys know this?" Tony asked, wondering if he was some how defective, not being a natural at hugging like everyone else. Even Natasha had known what to do, and she was just like Tony.

"Before she... My mother used to give me a lot of hugs," Bruce explained. Tony heard what he didn't say though, about how Bruce's father had... Bruce was suddenly focusing on his adoptive parents, but Tony knew. He hesitantly hugged Bruce tighter, hoping that was the correct response. Bruce smiled at him, even though it didn't meet his eyes.

"My mother also hugged me a lot when I was little," Steve said, sounding a lot better than he had previously.

So following that formula... well, there was no question how his own father had stood on the grounds of the whole "hugging" thing, after seeing that Castle. His mother though, Tony thought back to the mansion that felt so empty. He didn't feel any strong memories at the thought of his mother. Like she wasn't ever really there. Forty-two, no, there was something special about that number. It was the answer to life, the universe, and everything, or something like that. That's a crappy bullet for Forty-two. Forty-three: He wasn't hugged very often by his parents. That felt like it should be a sad thing, shouldn't it? Tony didn't know, but he could feel both Bruce and Steve tightening their grip around him.

Finally, Steve let go. Tony looked up as Steve stood, motioning for Tony and Bruce to stay as they were. "I'm going to see if we're heading in the right direction," Steve said.

"We can't split up!" Tony said immediately, panic rising. Natasha and Clint were dead. If something else attacked or they lost Steve... But he didn't like St... Cap, right? It shouldn't matter. "You've just calmed down. You have to stay."

"Tony's right," Bruce said, growling softly as he tugged Tony closer with a wave of protectiveness. Which, hey, awesome. Someone was agreeing with Tony for once. He knew there was a reason he liked Bruce. "This place has a different kind of logic to it. We can come with you. There's no reason to stay behind."

"Tony's back was hurt when..." Steve's eyes went blank, and for a moment Tony could feel him pulling away again. It was disturbingly close to the feeling when he knew Clint and Natasha had died. Tony bit down on his terror, as Bruce let go of him to pull up the back of his shirt. Which should have been in shreds, but was somehow magically whole again.

Tony hated this place.

"I'm fine, and I thought you weren't that kind of doctor. And _you_, you can't leave!" Tony said, the former to Bruce, the latter aimed at Steve.

"The wound stayed?" Bruce asked, unwinding the medical wrap.

"It still hurt him earlier," Steve said. "It seems to fade in and out, mostly when he's hurting from other things."

Bruce muttered something about not believing Tony was that poetic before touching Tony's shoulder gently. Tony flinched as the pain flared up as Bruce started to unwrap the bandages. "Go. I'll take a look at Tony's back."

"You can't-"

"Fifteen minutes, Tony," Steve said, loosening some of the grip he had on his emotions and letting Tony feel some of the hurt and the need to do something productive. "I just... come after me in fifteen minutes if I'm still not back. I won't go far, and I won't shut off like that."

"Stop calling me that," Tony said, looking down.

"Sorry," Steve said, and this time when he moved away, Tony didn't stop him. "Fifteen minutes, I promise."

"Relax. He'll be fine," Bruce said.

Steve glanced at the mirrors as he walked by, before moving quickly to the door at the end of the room. Tony wasn't sure he wanted Steve wandering around by himself in this place. It was an unnerving feeling, but he was distracted from it by a sharp intake of breath from behind him as his back was bared.

"These are deep," Bruce said, his fingers tracing along the four identical lines. It made Tony shiver lightly as he forced himself not to move. "In fact, I'm surprised you're still able to walk around."

"It stopped bleeding," Tony said defensively, attempting to look over his shoulder to see. It was a fruitless endeavor.

"Which is lucky, because you'd have bled out within an hour," Bruce replied with a sigh. "These wounds are impossible."

"I hate this place," Tony whined, glad when Bruce started replacing the bandage. He didn't like being that exposed.

"You'd be dead in the outside world, so I can't agree with the sentiment at the moment," Bruce said.

The outside world. Tony thought over the phrasing carefully as he pulled his shirt back down. The reactor was getting dimmer and less likely to draw people's attention from the scars. Not that Bruce hadn't just seen the mess on his back, but Bruce didn't seem like the type to be easily scared away by scars. Maybe that was why Tony liked him.

"So this 'Other Guy', is he-" Tony started, stopping when he saw Bruce sigh.

"I should have known you'd pick at that, even without memories," Bruce muttered. Had Tony done something wrong? But Bruce smiled, taking away some of the accusation. "It's not wrong, but I don't like talking about the Other Guy much. He... comes out when I lose my temper, and he's dangerous."

Dangerous? Tony didn't feel any sort of danger coming from Bruce, though now he could pin that undercurrent of emotion. Anger. "So you can't control him?" Tony asked, because while he didn't feel either fear or danger, he could tell that Bruce was uneasy.

"No, I can't," Bruce admitted, and the anger flared slightly as he did, like he was angry with himself for it.

"So it's a sort of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing?" Tony asked, a quote coming unbidden. "_'I learned to recognize the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousnesses, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both.'_"

Bruce flinched, and maybe that was the wrong thing to say. "But you're more calm and angry, not good and amoral," Tony clarified. Not helping, he realized. "So what does he look like? I promise I won't quote any more. Just don't say he's not easy to describe, because he doesn't seem displeasing or unlikable or-"

"It's alright, Tony. You really do have a knack for quotes though. I should have expected Jekyll and Hyde references," Bruce said, carefully hugging Tony. He looked over at the mirrors up against the other side of the room with a thoughtful expression, though Tony could feel a touch of fear underlying the anger in Bruce's thoughts. "You want to know what he looks like?"

That was a loaded question if Tony ever heard one. It was a test of some sort, though Tony couldn't remember why. Whatever this was, Tony couldn't fail this test. It's good he's a genius then. "Yeah, I'd like to know. What does a big rage monster look like?" Tony asked confidently.

Bruce tensed, but he nodded, getting to his feet. He offered Tony a hand up, then looked over at the mirrors on the wall. "There weren't that many in the last room at first. I could avoid them easily enough. But the longer I didn't look, the more they started to appear."

"I'm sorry," Tony said, his good humor leaving him as he looked down.

"What are you apologizing for?" Bruce asked. He'd been walking towards the mirror, but he paused and came back to Tony, confusion on his face.

"This place is my fault, right?" Tony said, gesturing to the room. "It's keyed to me somehow. So those mirrors have to be something I've done."

Bruce took off his glasses, hming softly as he cleaned them. "That makes sense. You're always trying to get me to understand the Other Guy more, and your instincts kept adding more mirrors without realizing the effect it would have. Also, it kept me in one place, so I wouldn't be able to wander around and explore, which I don't think any of us would blame you for."

So it really was Tony's fault. This place was - "You were only trying to help," Bruce said, cutting through the guilt. "And I'm fine now. See? The mirrors aren't multiplying any more. Instincts aren't rational. I know that better than anyone."

Bruce wasn't lying, and it didn't feel like he blamed Tony, but that didn't mean it still wasn't - "Tony, look at me. It's not your fault. I know it wasn't deliberate, because you wouldn't hurt me, not on purpose. You're one of the first people I've trusted in a long time, and I didn't have to come here to know the truth of that."

"Why does this feel like déjà vu?" Tony asked suddenly, hating the feeling that this was familiar without knowing why on top of all of the guilt.

Bruce looked at him in surprise before laughing softly. "That's because you're usually the one telling me that," Bruce explained with a rueful smile. "Though the Other Guy really is deliberate with his destruction sometimes."

So, hey, more proof Tony wasn't ashamed of being a hypocrite for Nineteen. He was almost tempted to separate 'Being petty' and 'Hypocritical' into their own numbers at this point. But Bruce was apparently just as bad, so maybe it wasn't as much of a fault as he thought. It didn't stop the guilt, but at least they could be broken together.

Tony looked over at the mirrors warily, not wanting to see his own reflection. More hypocrisy, if Tony really had been trying to get Bruce to see his own reflection. Curiosity at seeing the 'Other Guy' won out in the end. Forty-four. Tony had more than enough data compiled to make that Forty-four. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

He walked up to the closest mirror, looking behind it for any tricks. Just an ordinary mirror, no different from the other three lined up in the room. He wasn't entirely sure how this would show him the Other Guy, but Tony refused to put that down to magic being useful for once. "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the angriest of them all?"

When Bruce walked up to the mirror, it wasn't a slight, unassuming man reflected back. It was... wow. Big, green, and mean. "It's not easy being green, huh?" Tony asked.

"I see it's not limited to literary quotes," Bruce muttered, and his reflection growled. Those were a lot of muscles. And teeth. Tony would hate to get in between those teeth.

"Easy, big guy," Tony said. He reached up to the mirror and patted the reflection, wishing he could actually touch it. "So that's the Hulk? How does all that mass appear? That's against the laws of physics. And what about the green skin? I don't even know where to start on-"

"You're really not afraid of him, are you?" Bruce interrupted.

Something about Bruce's tone of voice made Tony look away from the Hulk to Bruce, and for a disconcerting moment, he was unable to tell which was the reflection. When Bruce was finally in focus, Tony saw the anger and surprise on his face. "Should I be?" Tony asked with honest confusion. "I mean, sure, he looks like he's got some anger management issues and could put me through a building, but there's nothing wrong with that. I'm sure everyone wants to destroy things sometimes. Besides, he's on our side, right? So we just need to point him at the bad guys and everything should be fine."

"I destroyed Harlem, among other things," Bruce growled.

Tony looked back at the green rage monster in the mirror, this time embracing the feelings he got with no effort to keep them from the link. "But that doesn't happen anymore, right?" he asked, smiling fondly at the reflection. "I may not have any memories, but I've got a lot of Tony's feelings toward things. Like towards Cap and D... and Howard. I hated both of them, but you're the first person I've liked on the spot. I'm pretty sure I'm not afraid of the Hulk either. I feel... safe. Like he's got my back. Both of you do."

"You aren't lying," Bruce said, anger giving way to shock. "You're really telling the truth."

Tony fidgeted, tapping the arc reactor as he took in Bruce's disbelief. The Hulk in the mirror almost seemed to be smiling smugly. "Why would I be?" Tony asked, wondering if he had a habit of lying. That seemed plausible, though he didn't have enough data for a number and he couldn't think of why he would lie in this case.

"I thought..." Bruce said, and Tony understood. Bruce had been on the run for so long and _everyone_ feared the Hulk. Betty had been the only one to look past the fear, but Tony had no fear at all. It was just too much for Bruce to completely soak in.

"It's true," Tony repeated with a shrug.

Bruce closed his eyes, a cascade of emotions washing over him, flowing with the ever present undercurrent of anger. Except now the majority of that anger was directed inward. "Are you okay?" Tony asked, wondering if he should try reaching out. Where was Captain Cuddles when you needed him?

Bruce nodded, despite the fact he was shaking. He already had so many problems, and he didn't need Tony on top of that. Besides, Tony _liked_ Bruce. If Bruce found out about the things Tony tried to hide... Tony wasn't sure he could handle that. Especially not if, like Clint and Natasha, Bruce ended up... He'd already hurt Bruce enough with the mirrors.

Carefully screening his thoughts, Tony ignored the feeling screaming that this was a terrible idea and looked over the mirror. If he were right about this place, he should be able to... Tony reached out to touch the reflection, the mirror rippling like water under his fingers. "Tony, what are you doing?" Bruce asked, regaining some control over his emotions.

"The mirror is reacting strangely," Tony said, pretending this was a puzzle to solve. "It's like it's fluid now."

Bruce reached out to touch the mirror hesitantly, his hand making ripples as well. The plan would work then. "What does it feel like on the other side?" Tony asked as Bruce pushed his hand in deeper.

"There's just air," Bruce replied, moving to pull his hand back, but the mirror refused to let him. "I'm stuck," he said with a slight frown.

It was safer this way, Tony reminded himself over the instincts that were screaming at him to stop now, while he still could. He wouldn't let Bruce get hurt like the others. Tony breathed in, then pushed Bruce forward the rest of the way into the mirror. "Through the looking glass," Tony said over Bruce's startled yelp.

The Hulk roared as Bruce stumbled on the other side. Bruce turned around quickly, pounding at the now solid glass. "Tony, what are you doing?" Bruce yelled, betrayal mixing with anger.

"I'm not him," Tony said, putting a hand up to the now solid glass. "Tony would never have killed Clint and Natasha. I did. Guess that's one thing I like better about Tony, which I didn't think was possible."

"You _are_ him, Tony," Bruce said desperately. "You didn't kill them, and it wasn't your fault that-"

'It _is_ my fault," Tony repeated. "But I'm not letting that happen again. Not to you."

"You're trying to protect me," Bruce said, eyes narrowing. "And yourself. Tony, this is a cage! You don't have to do this! We knew what we were getting into by coming here, and nothing will change the fact that you're our friend."

"I think killing someone puts a bit of a strain on any relationship," Tony said dryly, trying to contain his panic at Bruce's words. He couldn't react to that. That's why Clint and Natasha...

"Tony, we're not going to abandon you just because we've learned something you've tried to hide from us!" Bruce growled again, his voice sounding thicker in what Tony assumed was closer to the Hulk's voice. The Hulk roared as well, and he could feel _both_ of their fury, currently aimed at him.

But that didn't change the facts. Everyone leaves in the end. Tony wouldn't surround himself with anyone who couldn't get out of a bad situation. His friends had to be strong enough to break away when the worst happened, so that Tony wouldn't drag them down too.

"Tony..."

_Bruce had heard all of that._

Tony realized it was too late when the floor started to tremble. "No!" Tony yelled, grabbing the mirror. He steadied it desperately as the trembling got worse. The other mirrors shattered loudly around them. "You have to get out of there!"

"The mirror is still hard," Bruce said, pounding from the other side.

Tony tried to grab Bruce's hand through the mirror, but it wouldn't go through. Biting down his panic, Tony concentrated on making the mirror fluid, but when he pounded at it again, it was still hard. "It's not-"

The mirror nearly slipped through his hands and Tony scrambled for a better grip. "I'm going to put the mirror on the ground," Tony said as he stumbled against the wall. He hissed in pain as his shoulder struck it harshly.

"Tony, get to a doorway," Bruce said. "It'll be safer-"

"I'm not leaving you! Clint and Natasha are already..." Tony shook his head, trying to get the mirror turned around without dropping it or falling flat on his ass. The earthquake was getting worse. It had to be a five pointer by now.

"Tony, you're the only one in danger here. If you die, there's no coming back." He heard the furious roar of the Hulk in the background as he tried to wrestle with the mirror again. "And the Other Guy's not going to forgive either of us if that happens."

"I can't-"

"You _can_," Bruce growled. "You have to survive, Tony. Promise me."

"You have to be around to make me keep-" The ground rocked violently, sending Tony flying across the room. He held the mirror against him, throwing his body underneath it to cushion the fall. The breath was knocked out of him as he hit the floor, but he still heard the crack of the mirror shattering.

The quake gave one last tremble, then stopped, leaving Tony nothing but the sound of his own labored breathing.

Ignoring the pain in his ribs, Tony crawled out from under the broken glass from the mirror, already knowing what he would find. It was in pieces around him, with no sign of Bruce or the Hulk in the fragments. He couldn't feel Bruce anymore, just like it was when Clint and Natasha had died.

Tony picked up one of the fragments, finding red, not green, reflecting on his hands. He didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the broken glass. He eventually became aware of a loud banging at the far door, but it took him a few moments to assign a meaning to it. Steve.

Without looking up, Tony opened the door with a thought. Steve came tumbling in with a yelp, but he quickly regained his balance and spotted Tony. At least, Tony assumed that was what the small gasp meant. Tony was still staring at the mirror, and he didn't dare stop looking for bits of green in the red.

He heard Steve walk closer, kneeling down beside the broken mirror. "Tony," he said, his voice choked.

"_Out flew the web and floated wide_," Tony recited. "_The mirror cracked from side to side. 'The doom has come upon me,' cried the Lady of Shallot._"

"Tony, where's Dr. Banner?" Steve asked, brushing his fingers over Tony's wet cheeks, but he barely felt it.

"Dead."

Steve's fingers stilled, and he heard Steve swallow. "What happened?"

"He was in the mirror. I put him there to keep him safe."

"Why don't you put down that shard?" Steve suggested.

Tony didn't answer, staring down at the mesmerizing red on his hands. "Tony, please," Steve said, red gloves moving down to join Tony's hands around the shard. "Let me have the glass. You're hurting yourself."

It took a little more coaxing, but Tony finally released the bloody shard, catching a glimpse of a small, frail man with Steve's eyes in the reflection as Steve put it down with the rest of the broken mirror. "Let me try to clean your hands," Steve said as he took off the gloves.

"_All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand_," Tony said, but he let Steve dab at the cut with a cloth from his utility belt. Once he'd cleaned the cut, Steve wrapped his hands tightly with a medical wrap. Not all of the blood was cleared away, but Tony didn't think that was possible anyway. His hands had been stained long before he'd cut himself on the glass. That counted for Forty-five, didn't it?

"It's not your fault," Steve said, holding Tony's hands gently. He resumed his attempts to clean them. Tony must have said that out loud.

"Is that why your gloves are red too?" Tony asked.

Steve didn't answer.

Even Steve had to admit defeat against the stain eventually, though Tony could feel the frustration rolling off of him. "I'm sorry," Steve said finally. "You were right. We shouldn't have split up. I shouldn't have left. I didn't even find anything, and I couldn't get here in time."

Tony flinched away as Steve pulled him closer. He didn't want to leave the mirror.

"I'm sorry," Steve repeated, sounding more broken.

"It's not your fault," Tony said.

Steve shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh. "I'd believe that more if you believed it yourself."

Tony didn't respond, but he let Steve hug him this time so long as he wasn't pulled too far from the broken mirror. He wondered absently if seven years bad luck counted in a place like this. Even if it didn't, Tony figured killing everyone who was trying to help him was pretty bad karma anyway. The only one he hadn't killed was Steve. Steven Rogers. Captain America. A childhood hero who should be dead. The one person who could save him. It was a nice fantasy.

It was a pity that it wasn't true.

"Tony?" Steve... Cap asked as Tony stood up and wiped away the remainder of his tears.

"Time to go, Cap," Tony said, looking down at the arc reactor. It was barely visible from under his shirt, a faint glow where it had once shone through.

Cap immediately jumped to his feet, reaching out to touch the reactor before pulling back as Tony flinched. "The reactor..."

"It's fading," Tony admitted. Logically, he should be feeling his heart failing as the reactor lost power. The electromagnet should be getting weaker. But Tony only felt pain from his back and hands, and even those were a dull ache. Fairly fitting, that he felt nothing from his chest. Bruce had never been the real monster here.

"Tony, are you..."

"Doesn't matter." Tony being okay had no bearing on the situation. They had to get moving.

"It does matter!" Cap touched his arm, and Tony made himself stay still instead of flinching away again. "Tony, the others... They're okay. They have to be."

"Because they're on the outside?"

"Yeah, they're on the outside," Cap said it as if he were clinging to the thought like a life line. Not exactly glowing with confidence.

"And how did you get here exactly?" Tony asked, changing tactics to keep Cap off balance.

"Thor..." Cap hesitated over the words, like he hadn't fully understood it. "Thor got some sort of fruit from Asgard that he said would let us enter the - enter this place."

"Enter the dreamscape, you mean," Tony finished for him, gleaning the information from Cap's thoughts.

Cap flushed, then sighed. "You weren't supposed to know that."

"This is a dreamscape, one that reacts to my emotions and thoughts," Tony said, putting more distance between them. "It creates things based off the memories slipping through the cracks We're in here, versus being on the outside world-"

"Tony, you shouldn't-"

"We're in my mind, aren't we?"

Cap was silent for a moment, debating if he'd get caught in a lie. Then he nodded. "Yeah, we are. You're in a coma in the real world."

"So if the team dies in here, they'll just wake up. While if I die, that's it. Brain dead. Kaput."

"That's what Thor said," Cap replied. "We'd just snap back."

Which meant Clint, Natasha, and Bruce were probably okay in the outside world, though probably with more trauma than they'd entered with. That was good. Hopefully his team would be safe.

He looked back at Captain America, then to the changed scenery. They were in a coliseum, empty and ancient with packed dirt on the ground that kicked up dust in the wind, but exactly what he needed.

"Tony?" Cap asked.

"See, here's the thing," Tony said conversationally as he glanced over the weapons against the wall. "All of the others were completely unknown to me, even though I had some emotions to go with it. Which means they're probably real, rather than figments of my imagination. Of course, I've really got no way to prove that, but the fact my self-preservation instincts kicked in when they got too close - which, hey, number Thirteen: They may be low, but I do actually have them - lends plausibility to this theory. But you, you've never pushed passed that boundary. Now why is that?"

"I... don't know," Cap said.

Tony took in Cap's baffled expression and smiled. "It means you're probably not real, maybe you're even part of those survival instincts because of how you've kept me from dying. Captain America died in World War II. There's no way you could be here now."

Cap froze, his eyes widening. "Tony that's not... Natasha told you about the ice! The others all recognized me!"

"Yeah, Natasha probably warned the others about the weird things they might see in here, given how you were all set against me figuring out where I was," Tony said.

"The ice-"

"Come on, not even the super-serum could do that," Tony said, shaking his head. "I wouldn't put it past Natasha to lie on the spot like that. Out of all of you, she's the only one who might have managed to lie in here."

Cap considered Tony for a moment, obviously going over his options. "Is that the only evidence you have? It sounds like you're just twisting the facts to suit you."

Tony snorted. "Should be enough on its own. But you were the first to find me, when everyone else was isolated so that they wouldn't be able to search too deeply into my mind. You also convinced me to leave."

"Then what does that mean to you?" Cap asked cautiously. "If that's true, what are you going to do about it?"

"This isn't a fairy tale, Cuddle-bug," Tony said with a shrug. "I don't need to be saved. You're obsolete."

Cap flinched at the last word, taking a step back. He closed his eyes, then took a deep breath before answering. "I can still help. I'm not just a figment of your imagination, Tony."

"Don't call me that," Tony said, walking over to the line of spears and swords. As far as he knew, he didn't have experience with any of the weapons. A more modern setting probably would have been more helpful, but he couldn't chance trying to change things without Amora meddling again. He pulled out a sword, sharp and heavy in his grip, but comforting. Forty-six: There wasn't a weapon made that wouldn't yield to Tony Stark.

He held it in front of him, falling into a defensive position he wasn't sure how he knew. "I don't need anyone to save me, Cap," he said. "Which means it's time for you to disappear. Now, are you going to go quietly or do I have to make you?"

* * *

~TBC~

* * *

Memory: I would like to point out at this time that I did, in fact, use more poetry. I forgot about Tennyson. Which is silly, because I've even quoted that particular line in a different fic before, but hey. It'd been a while since I've looked at this chapter. Also, congrats to those of you who guessed they were in Tony's mind. I suppose I could have been a bit more subtle about that, but ah, well. Unfortunately, Natasha was actually right in trying to keep the information from him. I suppose we'll have to see what happens with the next chapter. Please do review and let me know what you think.

Anyway, quote of the chapter:

"It was on the moral side, and in my own person, that I learned to recognise the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both; and from an early date, even before the course of my scientific discoveries had begun to suggest the most naked possibility of such a miracle, I had learned to dwell with pleasure, as a beloved daydream, on the thought of the separation of these elements. If each, I told myself, could be housed in separate identities, life would be relieved of all that was unbearable; the unjust might go his way, delivered from the aspirations and remorse of his more upright twin; and the just could walk steadfastly and securely on his upward path, doing the good things in which he found his pleasure, and no longer exposed to disgrace and penitence by the hands of this extraneous evil."  
-Robert Louis Stevenson, _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_


	7. Where on the deck my Captain lies

Anthropos Polytropos  
By: Memory Dragon  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.  
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amora the Enchantress, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan.  
Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Implied bullying. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest. If you have any questions about the warnings, I'd be more than happy to clarify as best I can.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin for continuing to beta, even if I wasn't overly happy this chapter. Also thanks to cjr09, Fremma, and jinxcat99 for reviewing! I appreciate it!  
Notes: Why is this chapter so short and there's suddenly nine instead of eight chapters total? Blame my beta reader. While I am not overly happy with splitting this chapter and making it and the next one so short, Nar argued for it and this didn't seem to be enough to fight her over. So you get two short chapters rather than one normal length chapter. Hopefully the sword fight will be forth it. And yes, Whitman was clichéd to use, but really, I don't have the will power to resist that sort of thing.

* * *

Chapter Six: Where on the deck my Captain lies

* * *

"Tony, I'm pretty sure you don't know how to use that," Cap said skeptically.

"It's a sword. Angles and pressure, plus agility," Tony replied. "We're not in the real world and my body doesn't react the way it should normally. Given my penchant for quotes, I'm willing to bet I've seen a few action movies when I was younger. I've seen it used, so I can try to replicate it here. Really, it comes down to your will against mine, and I think I'm going to win this one."

"Why would you choose someone you hated to protect you?" Cap asked, eying the sword.

"Well, I've never liked my self-preservation that much. It even got an unlucky number," Tony said with a shrug. He lunged forward with a feint as Cap stepped back, a look of surprise on his face. "Maybe this is revenge for that?"

"I can help," Cap said, finally understanding Tony was serious. "You don't have to do this, Tony. Let me-"

"No can do, Cap," Tony said. He brought the sword down in a straight cut, putting all of his weight behind it. There was a loud clang as the sword struck the shield, and Cap took a step back. "I've got a good guess at what the shadows are, and no one gets to see that. You can't save me from myself."

Tony leaned on his back leg before pushing forward again, this time aiming for Cap's side when the shield blocked him again. He pushed back, then lower, until Cap had to dance out of the way to avoid getting his legs cut off. "I don't want to hurt you!" Cap said desperately.

"Yeah, that'd be counter-productive if you are a figment of my self-preservation," Tony replied, not even feeling winded. Cap looked like he was feeling a little out of breath though, and Tony kept attacking. Tony pressed his advantage.

Tony didn't have time to wear Cap down, however. The arc reactor was barely giving off any light. He needed to get Cap to lose the shield before this dragged on for much longer.

"Tony, stop this!" Cap pleaded gain.

"I'm not Tony," he repeated, sliding the blade up the shield with a screech. The move never would have worked in the real world. Cap was too fast and much, much stronger, but here? Here it was a battle of wills, and while Tony had no problem going full throttle, Cap was unwilling to fight. The sword slipped over the shield, and Tony put all of his weight behind the blow to Cap's arm with the flat of the blade.

Cap cried out in pain as Tony heard a sickening crack. His shield arm fell limp against his side, and Tony wasted no time raising the sword to Cap's throat. He calculated the quickest and least painful way to end this, because Cap deserved that much at least. He wondered what the crowd would think, if there had been one. Thumbs down or thumbs up, living or dying on the whim of the public. That was a far more familiar sensation than Tony would like to admit.

"Tony..." Cap gasped. He stood still, not even clutching at his broken shield arm. "Don't do this."

"You'll be safer on the outside if you actually exist," Tony replied, really wishing for some kind of firearm. There was too much of a chance he'd screw up with a sword, and he didn't want to hurt Cap. He was really starting to wonder why his brain went so low tech. He blamed his reading habits. Obviously, he needed to be reading more science fiction.

Cap closed his eyes, swallowing heavily. "Okay. That's... Take my shield with you after... You don't have your armor, but the shield should help protect you against Amora."

"I can't take-"

"Promise me you'll take it," Cap ordered.

Tony gaped at him, forcing his arm to remain steady. "I'm trying to kill you, and you want me to take your damn shield for protection?"

"You want to protect me," Cap said, opening his eyes and staring back at Tony with a calm gaze. "We won't leave you no matter what we see here. You're a good man, Tony. Even when you're in the most danger, you're still trying to protect us."

"Now, see, why do I not believe that, 'specially coming from you? Wait, okay, really, why especially coming from you?" Tony asked, anger slipping from his voice as confusion set in. "Is that a thing? Why is that a thing?"

"No offense to Thor, but sometimes I really hate his brother," Cap muttered under his breath. He sighed, a look of guilt and wistfulness on his face. "We didn't start off on the right foot. I'd just woken up and you were... I guess you hating me for whatever reason didn't help. We both said some things we shouldn't have, and Loki's staff amplified our reactions to make things even worse. But now... I know we aren't exactly friends yet, but I'd like to be. You _are_ a good man, Tony. Worth the time I didn't spend trying to get to know you like I should have when we first met."

Tony's arms were trembling as he held the sword up against Cap's throat, and he had to stop himself from taking a step back. He didn't want to listen to this. Number Twenty-three still applied. "Let me help, Tony," Steve pleaded. "I don't want my blood on your hands any more than you do, and nothing I see in here will make me abandon you like I did before I knew you."

"I'm not Tony!" he shouted, shaking his head. "I don't have-"

"No, you don't have his memories," Steve said, his words soft and gentle, but still managing to carry over Tony's frantic ones. "But you're still Tony where it matters the most. Under all that bluster and talk, you're one of the most selfless men I've ever met. You've worked endlessly on rebuilding New York-"

"Which I don't remember doing. And I doubt you were all to blame in whatever happened when we first met!" That seemed like a safe topic, picking at old wounds rather than whatever Steve was trying to say right now. Anger was better than panic.

"No, I wasn't. But you're doing it again, trying to take my portion of the blame. And maybe you don't remember helping out the city, but you do remember pushing Clint aside when that whale attacked," Steve said, not letting Tony change the topic. "You tried to save Natasha and Dr. Banner from things that tried to hurt them. You took out the arc reactor to save me from the Hydra, and I _know_ you knew how that would affect you before you did it."

Tony shook his head again, trying to clear it. It just made his throat tighter. "But I killed all of them. I didn't save them."

"You protected us," Steve said, bringing his good hand up to put a gentle pressure on the sword still pointed at his neck. "Even me, someone you don't even like. You didn't let me in when you were trying to save Dr. Banner because of how I reacted to losing Clint and Natasha, trying to take all the blame yourself. You're still Tony Stark, and Tony Stark is someone I'm proud to know. _You are a good man_, no matter how much you've fooled yourself and everyone else into thinking otherwise."

Tony blamed the sudden twist in his chest on the fading arc reactor. His arms buckled under the strain of the sword, lowering it until the tip scraped against the dusty ground of the coliseum. If he were honest with himself, this had been the foregone conclusion ever since he first dropped 'Cap' for the man's given name. "Steve..." Tony said, his voice hoarse and broken as the sword's hilt fell from his fingers.

"It's alright," Steve said, pulling Tony close with his good arm. Tony crumpled against his chest, holding back a sob through sheer will power. Steve simply held him tightly with his one arm, murmuring soft assurances. "It's alright. We'll get you out of here, I promise. We'll beat Amora and get you out, and then I want to try and fix whatever went wrong between us. You won't be here alone."

It was embarrassing to admit, but Steve's words were soothing, and they loosened the knot in his chest as Steve leaned his head against Tony's. "I'm sorry," Tony said finally, his voice rough. "Your arm-"

"It's okay," Steve said, giving him a pained smile as Tony looked up. "Don't think it matters much out in the real world. Just gotta think myself better, right? Mind over matter."

Steve even attempted to raise his bad arm in proof, but it ended with a pained gasp. "You know, that's not working," Tony said, feeling the pain from the link and burrowing closer to Steve. "Complete failure to apply the procedure. Your scientific method sucks."

That got a laugh out of Steve as Tony carefully slid the shield off his broken arm. He didn't meet Steve's eyes as he looked around for something to brace the broken bone with. The shaft from one the spears maybe? He'd have to move away from Steve, but it would be better to brace the arm.

"Hey," Steve said, catching Tony's shoulder before he could move back to the weapons rack. "Thanks for giving me a chance and letting me stay."

"Steve..."

Before Tony could look up, an earth-shattering roar started both of them. "Uh, Cap? Now's a good time to retest your hypothesis on mind over matter. And be proven right, because it looks like my own hypothesis about tasers killing lizards was proved false," Tony said as the nine-headed Hydra crawled over the coliseum walls.

"Maybe I should just keep repeating my arm's not broken," Steve said, standing up in a swift motion and wincing when he tried to pick up the shield with his still limp arm.

"The little Captain that could," Tony agreed, picking up the shield for him.

"Go," Steve said, taking the shield from Tony with his good hand. "I'll take care of this."

"I'm not leaving-"

"You're the one who has to survive and find the edge of the shadows to-"

"I'm not leaving!"

"Tony, you don't have the armor! You're just going to get killed!" Steve yelled.

Tony didn't get a chance to respond as one of the many heads struck at them, forcing them apart. Steve raised his shield, stumbling back a step as two of the heads double-teamed against him.

Tony rolled to his feet, grabbing the sword that he'd dropped earlier. Except the sword wouldn't do any good against the Hydra, not by itself. He needed something to cauterize the necks. He needed fire or...

His arms were red and gold again.

_Armor._

Tony ran towards Steve and the heads attacking him. The Hydra mostly ignored him, which meant he could duck under the winding neck to get to the other man. Steve struggled to fight off that many at once, using the shield to cover him from the poisonous breath as he was forced onto one knee to repel the attacks. One of the heads was attacking Steve from behind, and Tony didn't think. The only thing he heard was an electronic whine before he was blown back, slamming into the coliseum wall.

_Ow_. Forcing his eyes open, Tony gasped in pain. One of the heads was blown to smithereens, which was a plus. Tony fired up the repulsors again, bracing himself against the wall as he shot two more heads off. And look, totally not growing back. The repulsors really were that awesome.

Unfortunately, it meant the beast's attention was now on him. Steve was shouting his name - what the hell, might as well claim the name as his since everyone seemed so attached to it - as the Hydra lumbered towards him, but Tony forced his arm back into position. His arm wasn't going to take much more of this, but that was an acceptable outcome. He fired at another head, crying out in pain as the kick-back dislocated his shoulder. One more head down.

It was his last thought before one of the massive heads knocked him to the ground.

* * *

Pain was an understatement for how Tony felt when he woke up. The fire flooding through his body was almost crippling. Psychosomatic, he reminded himself. He didn't even have a physical body right now, so this much pain should not be debilitating. Finally, Tony managed to push the worst of the pain aside to try to sit up.

"Cap?" he asked, his voice raspy. And again, _ow_. His shoulder. At least it was back in place and in a sling, but next time he needed to remember he'd dislocated it before he tried moving. "Steve?" he called again when no one answered, because someone had to have tended his wounds.

He noted he was still in the coliseum as he looked around. There was a small fire off to the west of him, but far enough not to be a danger. One giant lizard carcass laid a little ways off, all of the heads severed and cauterized. The smell of burnt flesh nearly choked him when he turned to face it head-on. And Steve...

Steve was holding a torch up to the last neck, one arm hanging uselessly by his side as blood poured out of an open wound on his stomach. His good arm holding the torch was burned, and his uniform was torn in so many places that the tears had to correspond to other wounds from the Hydra. He dropped the torch after the neck was well and truly cauterized, staggering back as he fell to one knee.

"Steve!" Tony yelled, forcing his legs to support him as he stumbled over. He caught Steve before he fell forward, struggling out of the sling to lay Steve back and put pressure on the wound in his stomach. "Steve, stay with me."

"Take... Take the shield," Steve said, coughing between words.

"You're keeping it, Steve. You're staying alive and you're keeping it. Damn it, stay with me!" Tony shouted. Steve's eyes looked blankly out at the sky regardless of Tony's screaming, shaking, and threats. That stupid star on his chest stopped moving up and down like it was supposed to. Steve's presence in the link blinked out.

Steve Rogers was dead.

That didn't mean Tony gave up. He attempted CPR for a good ten minutes after, until he was out of breath himself and he could barely see straight. There was no pulse, and no sign of Steve's mind, but Tony tried anyway. Finally even Tony had to admit it was useless. Captain America was dead, and it was all Tony's fault.

Tony hiccuped as he sat back, folding Steve's hands and closing his unseeing eyes. He tried to make the uniform as neat as he could, which was ridiculous because it was torn and bloody with dirt from the coliseum floor only making things worse. No amount of straightening out the fabric would change that, but he couldn't stop himself from moving. If he did, he'd have to focus on the small hiccuping sounds he was making, or the fact that maybe the lack of oxygen wasn't the reason he was having trouble seeing. The quote came unbidden, tearing through him like the sword he'd held against Steve.

'_But O heart! heart! heart!  
O the bleeding drops of red,  
Where on the deck my Captain lies,  
Fallen cold and dead._'

He brushed the hair out of Steve's face, then patted it down until it looked like the old pictures that he didn't remember actually seeing. "_O, Captain! my Captain!_" Tony said to him, glad to hear his voice didn't shake, though it sounded awfully distant. "I was lying, you know. I said the only reason you'd stayed so long was that you were some self-preservation instinct to keep me alive. But that's not true. I don't know... I don't know if any of you were real, but the others, they found out things they weren't supposed to know. Things that might make them leave. Everyone always leaves."

Tony paused in his administrations, sitting back and curling in on himself. "But I guess... Even though I hated you, I still thought... Well, if anyone could help me, it'd be Captain America, right?"

It was funny, but even when Tony had thought he hated Steve, he'd still believed. He preferred thinking that it was just Captain America's personality rather than him just being that pathetic. "I wish I still hated you," Tony admitted. "It'd be easier. Except you're impossible to actually hate. You never just gave up on me like you should have. It's annoying. You should get that checked out before you kill some old miser with a heart attack. It's completely irresponsible of you.

"I... I wanted to be better," Tony said, his voice quiet in empty stillness of the coliseum. "I guess that was impossible in the end."

Everyone else had died, after all. If he'd been more in control, none of that would have happened. He should have protected them better. He'd isolated Clint on the boat, kept Natasha tied to the lake, and kept Bruce from wandering around with the mirrors... None of it had worked, and they all died anyway because of his mind being threatened. And his biggest failure of all against the Hydra, where he couldn't even have Steve's back in battle.

"What's the point?" he asked furiously, anger pulling his body into the present when he wanted to remain in that empty state of unfeeling. "Where's the goddamn point, if I couldn't do anything? Why bother coming here, if all it was going to accomplish was me watching everyone die?"

It was only when he opened his eyes to shout at Steve that he realized the body was slowly disappearing. It was fading right before him, like a ghost.

"No," Tony said, scrambling to Steve's side. His hand went right through Steve's chest "Don't leave too. Steve, _please_." It was irrational, but he hadn't been able to stay with the others after they'd died. Steve's body couldn't disappear too. "Don't leave," Tony whispered as the last of Captain America faded completely.

Tony sat there numbly, looking around for any trace left when he caught sight of the Hydra. He supposed he needed to bury one of the heads. Wasn't there an immortal one? But Tony couldn't bring himself to care. He walked over and kicked it hard in the bulk of the body, ignoring the near overwhelming smell of burning flesh and wondering how true it was about the blood being poisonous. Of course the disgusting body of the Hydra would stay. That was just how his life went.

It wasn't until his throat started to feel sore that Tony realized he'd been screaming at it.

Finally Tony stopped, coughing as he tried to catch a breath. His chest _hurt_ and it was hard to... Tony looked down at the arc reactor to see it flickering. Not emotional crap giving him the pain then. This time his chest really was hurting. He needed to start moving if...

Did he want to keep moving? He was alone now, completely and terrifyingly alone in the chaos that was his mind. A quick glance around proved that Steve's shield was lying on the ground next to the Hydra. He'd asked Steve's body what the point of it all was. Without Steve to keep him going, did he really want to continue?

Gingerly, he picked up the shield, the one remainder of Captain America left to him, and he ran his hands along the unfamiliar metal almost reverently. Vibranium, smooth under his fingers and it could completely absorb the vibrations from any blow. It was beautiful, in its own way. A rare and fantastical element that made up a representation of all that was good and worth protecting. Except it couldn't keep its promises, and sometimes the blows weren't always physical. The real one, in the outside world, would it protect Steve from the guilt of failing another teammate if Tony died?

He supposed that answered his question.

Tony took the shield, sliding his good arm through the straps. He wouldn't be able to throw it like Steve did, but that didn't mean it was useless. If there had still been a body, he might have left it with Steve, but he didn't want to leave it here with the rotting Hydra body, especially if there was a chance it wasn't totally dead. Besides, it was Steve's last... Steve had asked him to take the shield, for all the good it would do without Steve attached to it. The shield was heavy on his arm, but it wasn't as bad as the guilt was, so he figured it was the least he could do.

The scenery shifted around him until he was in a blank, nondescript place. He couldn't tell if there were walls, and he had no idea where the light source was coming from, but the place itself was an off-shade of grey. "My mind is such a pleasant place," Tony said, wincing as his heart spasmed. He placed his bad hand over the arc reactor for a moment before looking up at the wall of shadows. He eyed it with a growing sense of dread. "_Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury. Signifying nothing_," he quoted absently, staring at the darkness before him. "No point in staying here," Tony told himself, a blank calmness in his voice.

He stepped forward into the swirling mists without hesitation, immediately bombarded with the inability to breathe and with bruising hands holding him down in the water. Tony stumbled forwards as he breathed in putrid water, the weakened flickering of the reactor the only light visible.

_It's just a trick of the mind_, Tony told himself firmly as he forced his legs to move forward. This wasn't really happening. He wasn't really drowning.

Except there was so much _water_. It was terrifying enough to nearly stop him in his tracks, it nearly was, but then he felt hands ghosting over the reactor. Betrayal. Never good enough. Tony screamed as he tried to pull away, but he was paralyzed as familiar hands reached in to pull the reactor out of his body. The reactor was poisoning him - so much _pain_ - as his organs started to fail, and someone was trying to take it out, killing him that much quicker than the poison could. He fell again, his knees scraping against the ground as he folded his hands under him and rolled.

A trick of the mind. He forced himself up and forward through the terror that was as paralyzing as the memories had been, only to feel empty stares all around him. The stares of the dead. Of the people he'd failed. Of the people he'd killed. Tony fell to his knees, unable to move as the reactor flickered and went out.

_Fear_. An overwhelming sense of fear and drowning, being unable to move. But he needed to. He had to keep going and push through the shadows. He _had_ to. It was an imperative. A promise. One of the very few promises he'd made in his life that actually meant a damn.

Number Forty-seven: He could not waste his life. Not without breaking a very important promise. He couldn't die here, because there was still so much he had to make up for. He stumbled, but got up again, the promise driving him forward.

When Tony could no longer push himself to his feet, he crawled He honestly didn't know where the will to survive came from when his self-preservation had been so low before, but he had to keep going through the terror and the water. To push forward through the poison and the hands holding him down and ripping out his heart. He couldn't die like this, not when he'd be breaking that promise!

But even Tony's stubbornness couldn't last forever against the onslaught of fear and the failing of his body. He was going to die here regardless, drowning in the terrible _between_ of the worlds with an alien sky, alone in the eternal dark. It was endless, and he couldn't... Tony pulled himself up another inch as his chest and lungs burned and he choked on water. He couldn't move past that, no matter how he screamed at his muscles to move, his lungs to breathe, and his heart to beat. As that familiar pair of hands reached in for the arc reactor again, Tony couldn't help but think he deserved it all.

Then it was a different pair of hands - a steady, gentle pair replacing the brutal ones, holding him up above the water, and pushing him forward. When Tony stumbled, those hands held him fast, wrapping him in comfort. The fear and pain were still swirling around him, but he could move again. Tony took a stumbling step forward, and then another, pushing his lungs to keep breathing and letting those hands keep the terror at bay.

It wasn't until a second pair of hands joined the steady ones that Tony realized how ghostly they were. The new pair was warm, solid, and _firm_, and though they didn't bring the comfort of the other hands, they gripped his shoulder and carried him along. The steady hands could only hold him up, but these ones pulled him along without a choice in the matter.

Tony decided that this once, _just_ this once, he wasn't going to argue. He wanted out of the darkness, and they were getting him there.

The light, when they finally reached it, was blinding, and Steve's shield clanked against the ground. It was then Tony's heart stuttered to a stop, the shrapnel pushing in too deep.

* * *

~TBC~

* * *

Memory: You can also blame Nar for the cliff hanger, since she made it necessary. See what she forces me to do? Though I may have enjoyed writing the scenes in this chapter far too much. I kept thinking of that scene in Sailor Moon of Usagi-chan leaning over Mamoru's body to kiss him, but pulling back saying she couldn't, not when her friends died without their first kiss. If I'd managed slash, that totally would have happened. So I suppose that's one thing you guys can be grateful for, because I am far too much of a shoujo writer for my own good sometimes.

Please do review and let me know what you think!

Anyway, have the quote of the chapter. Because I really won't apologize for using Whitman. I don't even like most of his poems, but if you can think of anything more appropriate for Cap's (temporary) death that is equally patriotic and ironic, let me know. Because I sure as hell couldn't. XD

"_O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,  
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,  
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,  
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;  
But O heart! heart! heart!  
O the bleeding drops of red,  
Where on the deck my Captain lies,  
Fallen cold and dead._"

_-_Walt Whitman, _"_O Captain! My Captain!_"_


	8. Be all my sins remembered

Anthropos Polytropos  
By: Memory Dragon  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.  
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amora the Enchantress, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan.  
Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Implied bullying. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest. If you have any questions about the warnings, I'd be more than happy to clarify as best I can.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin for continuing to beta, despite me being evil and sending her tentacle-y things. Also thanks to cjr09, battleofwits, and KRAlover for reviewing  
Notes: Upping the chapter count again. It's not Nar's fault this time. That's actually my fault for miscounting. -_-;;; I apparently forgot to count the epilogue in there. Oops. Also, let's take a look at those warnings, shall we? There's two words I'd like to focus on: cliff hangers. That's been in the warnings since the very start, so don't come whining to me that I left you guys hanging. You read the warnings, you knew what you were getting into. No amount of threatening will change that. XD

This chapter is basically 'Spot the Shakespeare quotes!' The main question is if anyone can spot the one non-Shakespeare quote.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Be all my sins remembered

* * *

_Thump-thump. Thump-thump._

Tony closed his eyes and gasped in clean air, filling his lungs as he coughed wetly and his heart vainly started again with an electric shock that raced through him. It was only a matter of time that his heart stopped again.

Hands ghosted around his reactor, and they pushed his own hands away as Tony tried to fight them off. The hands hesitated, lingering, then moved away. With a second sudden shock, the reactor whirled to life, and Tony gasped, his panic over someone touching the reactor momentarily sidelined. His heart pounded (pounded, instead of barely beating! Good sign) in his ears as he reached for the reactor - still in his chest, thank God - and slowly he opened his eyes to see it was shining brightly again. The steady hands had disappeared.

The non-ghostly ones belonged to a huge Wagnerian wet dream of a man who was panting just as heavily as Tony was. He was... Wow. If Steve had been Heracles, this man was a full-fledged _god_, with his long hair and armored broad shoulders. The second Tony could breathe normally and he stopped trembling from fear, he was touching those biceps to make sure they were real. Finally, his imagination was giving him a break.

Turns out he only had to wait for the god to catch his breath before he was enveloped in a bear hug that put Steve's to shame. Okay, _ow_. "Uh, Blondy? My ribs..." Tony said breathlessly, his voice shaking as he tried to push the fear down again.

The hug immediately loosened, though the man didn't let go. Tony closed his eyes, giving a shuddery breath against the man's shoulder as he soaked up the warmth and waited for the memories of the cold water to recede.

"You have fought well, my friend," the man said, rubbing Tony's back.

"I couldn't-" Tony started, needing to gasp for breath as the guilt hit him again. "They all died."

"They are safe," the man said confidently. "My mother's magic will ensure that. Come, we do not have much time before Amora realizes I've broken free of my bonds."

"Who..." Tony asked as the man helped him stand, keeping a hand on his back to steady him. Tony grabbed Steve's shield, feeling a little better, and leaned into the hand. Tony needed the comfort too, he realized, trying to keep his own hands from shaking. His legs weren't doing much better.

"I am Thor Odinson," the man said, and yeah, okay. Tony could see that. Thor was definitely godly. As the usual list of nicknames (Bondy, Goldilocks, Thunder-bolt, Big Guy, Muscles, and so forth) piled up, Tony wondered if any of them could really describe Thor.

So he was the one who brought everyone into Tony's mind? Tony should be pissed for that, but the fear was only just held at bay, and he didn't have the energy to work up a proper rage.

"It is my great shame to have been unable to help you before now," Thor said, keeping Tony close as if he was afraid to let go. Tony wondered how much the Shadows affected Thor, feeling guilty for dragging him in this mess just because he couldn't get out on his own. "The Enchantress has kept me bound here in this place, unable to do anything but watch. I only just broke the chains."

_Watch_? "You saw all of that?" Tony asked, his eyes going wide.

"Aye, I did. But do not fear, my friend," Thor said, hugging Tony a little tighter. "You have proven yourself a brave warrior, one I am proud to call my shield brother. I pray I would have the strength you have shown in such dangers. I had not realized how much suffering you had faced."

"O...kay," Tony said, trying to sort through Thor's weird-ass speech. Anything but thinking about the darkness behind him. He looked down at the arc reactor, glad to see it was shining brightly again. That was a relief, at least.

He _felt_ the fierce protectiveness emanating from Thor, and he looked up to find Thor staring at the arc reactor as well. It was already covered by his shirt, but Tony wished it was better hidden. Even though he could feel that Thor wanted to keep anyone from touching the reactor as well, it was still unnerving, having him stare at it like that.

"We must hurry," Thor said, smiling reassuringly at him as he gripped Tony's shoulder. "Amora will not be far."

"_I wasted time, and now doth Time waste me: For now hath Time made me his numb'ring clock; My thoughts are minutes._" Tony said absently.

"You spoke thus to me when we first met," Thor said thoughtfully. "But your words were much less elegant and more mocking."

"Probably," Tony said with a shrug. He forced his legs forward. "Twenty-four, I'm a jackass. Anyway, no rest for the wicked."

"Nay, my friend. What Steven said was true. You are a good man."

Tony stiffened at the memory of Steve's words, recalling them all too clearly. How could Thor even say that, if he'd really been watching? Between Bruce and Steve, the evidence was fairly damning. Clint and Natasha, they could argue that it hadn't really been his fault since he hadn't known, but the other two? He'd known damn well enough. He didn't meet Thor's gaze. Instead, he kept walking, looking around at the blank surroundings. Anything was better than that black mist. "Where are we going?" Tony asked.

"There is a portal we can use to get you back to-" Thor suddenly roared in pain, falling to his knees as familiar green smoke surrounded him.

"Thor!" Tony shouted, trying to reach through the smoke, but it burned his hands. The smoke disappeared before he could try again, leaving nothing of Thor behind.

Before Tony could properly panic about being alone again, he whirled around at the sound of Amora's laughter, raising Steve's shield. Thor was chained in some sort of stock that had him kneeling on the ground and held his hands and head level. It was hurting Thor in some way, but he still growled as Amora caressed his face. "Enchantress! Let him go! This fight is between you and I."

"You are so naive, Thunderer," Amora said, smiling haughtily at him. "You had your chance to free him, my Prince. Now it is time to fulfill Loki's command to dismantle the Avengers. You will watch this mortal die and remember your place with us!"

"What do you mean?" Tony asked, instead of his previous thought to demand she let Thor go.

"Didn't he tell you?" Amora let go of Thor and sauntered over to Tony, her hips rocking back and forth. If she'd been any other woman, Tony would have imagined another bed and asked if he could show her a good time. As it was, he held the shield up to keep her from getting too close.

She paused, but Tony refused to let her within touching distance again. "You could have gone free at any time," she replied with a smirk. "All Thor had to do was agree to leave with me, and never return to the mortal realm."

Thor bowed his head, shame rolling off him. "What the Enchantress says is true," he admitted. "But the last words you spoke to me were to not give in to her demands."

"Not blaming you, buddy," Tony said, sparing Thor a quick grin. He calculated the distance between Amora and Thor, debating if he could get between them. Then he remembered her green smoke disappearing act and decided it'd be a waste of time. He needed a better plan.

"You could always join me in his stead," Amora said, her voice low and seductive, honey sweet. "You could serve me well, Man of Iron. I could make you immortal, and stronger beyond your wildest-"

"Yeah, sorry," Tony interrupted. "But I've decided I really don't like you. I don't want to spend an eternity by your side either, because that thought gives me hives. Oh! Forty-eight: Commitment issues. Basically, without the right sort of person, it's not for me - and you're not the right sort of person. At all. Sorry, Goth-Girl."

Amora's eyes narrowed in anger. Maybe he was going at this wrong. From a distance, she'd disappear before he could hit her. If he let her in close, she'd have less time to disappear. But that meant letting her close enough to touch the reactor again. These were crappy odds.

"Then you have two choices, _mortal_," she said, spitting the last word as a curse. She raised her arms and two portals appeared, both framed in green smoke. The first turned into a door. It was open and looking out into a hospital room. Tony's body was laid out on a bed, with the rest of his team gathered around him.

_They were alright_. Tony's chest felt lighter, like the arc reactor had lost half its weight. Natasha and Clint were sitting by the bed, talking softly, constantly glancing down at Tony's body. Natasha was even petting Tony's hair. Bruce was on the other side, holding Tony's hand and fussing with the sheets. Thor was there, sleeping in a bed next to Tony. There were two other people there, a black man in a military uniform and a red-haired woman. Tony wanted to see both of them so badly, even if he had no idea who they were. The woman looked like she was holding back tears, and the sight just about broke the non-mechanical bits of Tony's heart. And Steve...

Steve sat a little ways apart from the group, sitting on another bed, cradling the arm Tony had broken and staring at Tony's bed bleakly. Bruce and the others sent him a few worried glances, but they left him by himself. Tony took a step forward, knowing he couldn't just leave Steve like that. The others, they'd get over it eventually, even the red-haired woman. But Steve was already too broken, and Tony couldn't be the final straw. Steve needed to smile more.

"Careful," Amora warned, bringing Tony back to the present.

Tony looked down as she spoke, scrambling away from the sudden ledge he found himself on. The other portal had turned into a dark abyss. Tony didn't have to throw a rock down there to know it was endless. It scared him in a way that not even the Shadows had.

"Your first choice is to walk through that door," Amora said, her voice holding amusement as she toyed with her hair. "But I'm afraid you really should have killed Captain America, because he was still placed under my spell when the Hydra killed him." She snapped, and all of his teammates froze, staring blankly ahead. A green band wrapped around their necks as the black man and the red-haired woman shouted and tried to get the others to snap out of it. "They are mine, since I killed them here. If you step through that door, all of them will die and Loki's command will be fulfilled."

"Let them go," Tony growled, deciding that letting her close was an acceptable risk.

"Only if you take the second option," Amora said, smiling wickedly. She walked back over to Thor who was staring at his bindings. "The abyss is exactly what you think it is. Jump into it and end your life, and I will let them go. Without you and with the Captain broken, the Avengers will no longer be a threat."

"Amora, leave the Avengers out of this!" Thor yelled desperately. "You should not serve my brother! I will stay by your side, but let the mortals live!"

Amora caressed his face again, open affection on her face. "That is all I've ever wanted, my love. And with your consciousness here, I shall have it eventually, once I've made you forget the mortal world. But first, I must destroy this 'team' of yours that drew your attention away."

"_That's_ not stalker-ish," Tony said, attempting to cross his arms. It didn't work very well with Steve's shield strapped to one of them. He lowered them, wondering how Steve managed to look intimidating with a _shield_ of all things.

"Make your choice, mortal," Amora said, moving away from Thor and towards him. Which was good, it suited his plan. "Or I shall make it for you."

"'_Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles, And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep_' Oh, look. I've even got quotes on suicide. There's one for every occasion. I'm worse than a Hallmark card, not that I actually remember what those are. But there's one choice you've forgotten," Tony said, with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Cause the way I see it, I have three options."

"There is no way for you to win," Amora said. She waved the hand that wasn't placed on her hip, and the green band tightened on the Avengers' necks.

"There is, actually. '_I kissed thee, ere I killed thee. No way but this, killing myself to die upon a kiss._'"

"A kiss won't save you or your friends," Amora said.

"Yeah, except it will. At least, the second part of that." Clutching the shield, Tony strode forward and kissed her hard, wrapping an arm around her to keep her in place. She wasn't going to let the Avengers go even with his death, but there was a solution to that.

Thankfully, she was allowing him the kiss, amused by his arrogance and willing to humor it. As he slipped his tongue into her mouth, Tony concentrated on the red-and-gold armor. Not just the gauntlets, but the whole shebang, even if he couldn't remember it. The armor was instinctive, a second skin. If he could get the armor on while she was distracted, there was a chance.

He felt it forming around him, his legs and arms first, then wrapping around his torso and the arc reactor. He pulled away before the faceplate slid down, the eyes lighting up. For the first time since Tony woke up, he felt a sense of _right_. This was how he belonged.

Amora screeched as he grabbed her waist, making sure she couldn't escape, then Tony looked to Thor. "_Good night, sweet prince_," he said, firing a repulsor blast at Thor's heart. It burnt through Thor's armor, killing him instantly. He was really getting the hang of this mind over matter thing. Then he fired the repulsors in his boots, dragging Amora with him.

"Release me, mortal!" Amora yelled, trying to move out of his arms. But Tony kept his grip and his will strong. This was his domain, not hers. She wasn't getting away.

"Sorry, gorgeous, but you're coming with me," he replied. And with that, Tony flew them both into the abyss.

Once again, darkness engulfed him, but Tony pushed harder, taking them further and further into the abyss. How long would it take for them to die like this? Amora was screaming, and it was getting harder to concentrate on holding his grip. He couldn't let her go. He couldn't...

Green clouds covered both of them, and just before he blanked out, Tony felt a strong sense of pride that couldn't have come from Thor and wasn't his own enveloping him.

* * *

Tony woke up with a groan. He pushed himself up, the external cameras of the suit rebooting slowly. He was in some sort of crystalline structure, with reflective pillars. He caught sight of a robot in one of them, gleaming red and gold with a bright arc reactor in its chest and... Captain America's shield on its arm.

So that's the armor. Damn, it's pretty sexy. Stylish too. Forty-nine: His suit of armor was way cooler than Tony Stark.

That was when he caught sight of the Enchantress using one of the pillars to push herself up. Tony reacted. He rushed her, tackling her to the ground. It was easy in the armor, and it only took a few seconds before he hauled her up, one repulsor an inch from her head and the shield at her throat.

"Option three," Tony said in her ear, the mechanized voice of the suit echoing through the hall. "I take you with me over the suicide cliff and wait for you to teleport both of us out."

"I will kill you where you-"

"I wouldn't try it," Tony said, the whine of his repulsors charging clearly audible. "If I died in my mind, it's the end of the line. But we're not in my mind anymore, are we? You panicked and brought us here, to your own dreamscape. So what happens if I kill a goddess?"

Amora froze in his arms. "You do not know of the power you are messing with."

"No, you don't know what you're messing with, trying to tangle with the Avengers," Tony said with a shrug. The motion pushed the shield into her throat. "I don't have my memories, but I'm pretty sure that's a bad idea all around. And you're going to release my friends now, or we're going to find out what happens."

"It will kill you as well!"

"You know, I'm cool with that. That outcome is acceptable."

Tony hadn't even thought about the words, before they left his mouth, but he realized it was true. If she didn't release the spell on his team, he wouldn't think twice about killing off both of them to make sure they were safe. They'd all died to try and help him, and Tony Stark wasn't worth all of them dying. Fifty: He does make the sacrifice play, even if he won't admit it. "'_When the bad bleed, then is the tragedy good._' I don't think either of us are good enough to survive this tragedy, sweetheart."

He could feel the panic from Amora as she realized he was serious, and he felt the energies shift around him. No, he wasn't feeling the energies, Amora was! "It is done. They are freed," she hissed.

"Show me," Tony ordered.

She lifted her hand and the portal appeared again, forming a white door. He could see his team gasping for breath, but the green bands and blank stares were gone. It didn't feel like she was lying. Even Thor was awake, though why was he crying?

Tony looked over at the machines hooked up to his body, only to see that the heart monitor was flat-lining. The red-haired woman sat down, her eyes never leaving his body as her face twisted in grief. The unknown man was shaking Tony, and it looked like he was shouting. Tony felt his mouth go dry as he watched his team become aware of-

_Ow_. Okay, being tossed to the ground still hurts like a bitch, even when it's only psychological and he's in a sexy suit. He was barely able to roll and bring Steve's shield up in time to block some green fire Amora shot at him.

His element of surprise gone, Tony figured the odds were not good. If he could defeat Captain America in his own mind, he stood next to no chance against a chick who could throw him in heavy armor like he was a pebble in hers. Yeah, this was going to end badly.

At least his team was safe.

"_You_," Amora said as she threw another green blast at him. He didn't get the shield up in time and the impact knocked him backwards, but the armor absorbed most of the force. "You will regret this. I will make you regret this!"

"Probably," Tony said with a shrug. "But you'll have to wait in line. I mean, I probably have a queue on the outside world, so take a number and come up with more original villain dialogue while you wait."

"Foolish mortal, all I have to do to punish you is make you remember."

Tony froze, palm out to fire a repulsor blast, but not firing. He wasn't Tony Stark, but if she gave him back his memories, he would be. He didn't _want_ to be Tony Stark. He could start something new like this, something better, without all the baggage beyond some occasional feelings.

"Don't," Tony said, desperately hoping the pleading in his voice was cut out by the armor's voice synthesizer. From the look on her face, Amora heard it or his thoughts on the matter anyway.

"Good-bye, Man of Iron," she said blasting him into one of the pillars. This time, the green fire seared through the armor, burning his chest.

He thought he would just die. And he did, he felt the agony leave his body, after which he could no longer move. He was still conscious though, and he could hear Amora talking to someone she called her 'Executioner'. It was like listening to one half of a telephone conversation. He could hear her talk, and feel her emotions, but he got nothing from the other side of it. He got the feeling this executioner didn't talk much anyway. He listened as much as he could because she was talking about the Avengers and plans to free Loki. He didn't understand most of it, but he knew it was important, so he committed as much as he could of it to memory.

Eventually, her voice started to fade, taking the only sense he had left with it. Is this what it felt like to die? Sticking around for an hour or two after death to see if anyone actually mourns you?

No one left to mourn for Tony Stark. Or whoever he was.

It was better that way. That was his last, lonely thought before he slipped into complete darkness.

* * *

~TBC~

* * *

Memory: So that's the second cliff hanger in a row where I killed Tony. Oops. Also, Hamlet soliloquy happened. The chapter title is from the end of the soliloquy, even if I quoted the beginning of it in the chapter. And several other plays besides. Actually, I originally titled this one 'Out, out, brief candle' but after giving in to Whitman, I figured I might as well give in with Hamlet.

And now we're nearing the end! It feels like this journey has been so long... Anyway, have the quote of the chapter. It is the most quoted soliloquy in the English language, so I shouldn't feel too bad for using it.

Quote of the Chapter:

"To be, or not to be, that is the question:  
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer  
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,  
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,  
And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep  
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end  
The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks  
That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation  
Devoutly to be wished. To die to sleep,  
To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub,  
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come..."  
-William Shakespeare, _Hamlet_


	9. Young Dawn with her rose-red fingers

Anthropos Polytropos  
By: Memory Dragon  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.  
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amora the Enchantress, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan.  
Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Implied bullying. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest. If you have any questions about the warnings, I'd be more than happy to clarify as best I can.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin for the beta, despite how I confuse you with Avengers canon. Special thanks to cjr09 for reviewing. It has been a very rough week, and seeing the comment cheered me up a lot.  
Notes: First of all, for those of you who were wondering, the non-Shakespeare quote from last week came from _Revenger's Tragedy_. The line was "When the bad bleed, then is the tragedy good." There is an excellent movie version of the play with Christopher Eccleston, Eddie Izzard, and Derek Jacobi if there is anyone interested in seeing it.

Second, I hate to do this, because after this is the final chapter, but I'm not entirely sure if I'll have internet next week. I'm not entirely sure I'll have a place to live next week. There are a few things I'd like you to take note of in light of this. One, the final chapter is written. Two, I will not leave this fic without an ending. You can look through my past chapter fics to know that I always finish what I post. Three, I will try to get this up in a timely manner, but please be understanding that a timely manner may not be possible at the moment. There's a lot going on and it has not been a good week. It doesn't look like it's getting better any time soon either. Just keep in mind that life does take precedence over fic.

Finally, enjoy the chapter and all the warm fuzzies. After all of that angst, you guys deserve it.

* * *

Pain. Lots of it. He was blinded by white lights as he opened his eyes briefly. He'd have screamed as the memories flooded through his mind, but there was something in his throat that forced him to breathe. He tried thrashing, pulling out whatever it was, but a pin prick in his neck pushed him back under.

The second time he woke up, there was still a lot of pain, but it wasn't as bad. Tony Stark made a mental note to never drink whatever it was that put him here again, because this was the worst hangover he'd ever had.

"Tony?" he heard Pepper say. The way her voice trembled made Tony wonder just how much he'd had to drink. He hadn't had _that_ much, had he? The one time he'd done that had been before Afghanistan, and Pepper had threatened to quit if he did it again. Rhodey had punched him after he'd gotten out of the hospital and his jaw had ached for days, and that was after he'd assured both of them that it really had been an accident. He'd mostly kept his promise not to let it get that bad again, but Tony didn't put it past himself to slip back when things got too rough, even if he had been doing much better recently.

Time to face the music. Tony opened his eyes to see not just Pepper, but Rhodey and the Avengers crowded around him. Huh. "Hey, Pep," he croaked, wincing at how hoarse he sounded. Hadn't he been hooked up to something last time he'd woken up? How bad-

Pepper launched herself at him as he tried to sit up, hugging him tightly. Hadn't they been taking a break? And Rhodey, Rhodey should be officially in LA, unofficially off doing whatever classified stuff Tony had promised not to hack into. Another promise he'd mostly kept, since he'd been busy with the Avengers...

Thinking back, the last thing he remembered was yelling at Thor not to give in to her demands, and the Enchantress throwing him into a wall as he took a hit meant for Cap. So maybe not a hangover after all. "What happened?" he asked.

Okay, when _Rhodey_ was sliding next to him and hugging him tightly, something bad had to have happened. "You've been in a coma for three weeks," Rhodey said. "Don't you dare even think of doing that to us again."

Tony got a light thwap on his head (which, ow, not helping with his headache), and a tighter hug from both Pepper and Rhodey. The looks he was getting from everyone made a lot more sense, but what was he, their personal teddy bear? He was tired of being hugged constantly and...

Wait. Teddy bears? It all came tumbling back, whether he wanted it or not. Pepper Potts - no strawberries - though he still couldn't remember _why_, he did know that they were bad - stable, brilliant, and frighteningly efficient, someone just out of his reach that he couldn't help but try to reach out for. James Rhodes, a safe haven, comfort, protection - all those things Tony had convinced himself that he didn't need anymore and yet he still ended up under the desk waiting for Rhodey to find him.

Tony looked around at the other Avengers who had been inside his _mind_, learning things no one should know about him. They knew all those things, and he'd killed all of them, unconsciously or not. They _knew_.

"Tony," someone... Bruce? repeated a few times before it registered. The others had backed away to give him some space. "Hey, you're alright, Tony," Bruce said reassuringly, rubbing small circles into his hand. Tony realized he was shaking pretty badly. Pepper was now sitting back, wiping her eyes, but Rhodey refused to let go, just like on the plane ride home from Afghanistan after he'd been cleared by medical.

"Just breathe," Bruce repeated a few times.

"I killed you," Tony said, looking from Bruce, to Natasha, to Clint, to Thor. "All of you. It was my fault. Why did you go there in the first place? You shouldn't..."

"We knew the risks," Natasha said. "It was the only way to get you out of the spell Amora placed on you."

"I authorized it," Pepper said, much of her composure regained. Tony glared, feeling betrayed. She'd just let the other Avengers go running around in his head!

"We were greatly worried," Thor said. "It took time to locate the apples that would allow us to join you in the dreamscape, and Lady Pepper and Colonel Rhodes were both needed elsewhere."

"Besides, Thor told us about that suicide dive you made," Clint said with a scowl, crossing his arms over his chest as Thor looked down. "You don't have any high ground after that to lecture me for jumping off buildings!"

"It was a forty percent chance of death, and a sixty percent chance that I'd be able to hold on as she teleported out," Tony said automatically. He didn't mention that he hadn't expected waking up again after that gamble.

"Forty percent! Tony, I've seen you gamble. You overestimate the odds," Rhodey snapped.

Tony looked around again, ignoring Rhodey's protests with long practice. Someone was missing. As Bruce tried to calm Rhodey down, Tony kept looking around, his panic growing.

"Tony, calm down," he heard Natasha say. "We're all still here. You didn't actually kill-"

"Cap," Tony said, figuring out the missing face. He tried to get out of bed, but Rhodey's hands forced him back and he got a look of pure murder for trying. "_Steve_. Where-"

"I'm here." That was Steve's voice, but Tony still couldn't see him. Steve had been sitting by himself from what he'd seen through Amora's portal. Steve shouldn't be by himself.

Thor moved aside as Steve moved closer, and Tony relaxed against Rhodey at the sight of him, arm still cradled against his side. Tony was still trembling, but seeing everyone here helped immensely.

"Your arm-"

"It's just in my mind," Steve said. "It's not really hurt. I just need some time for the rest of me to remember that." Steve smiled weakly at him as Natasha pulled him next to her. He was still farthest away from Tony, but now part of the group. That was better.

Suddenly exhaustion hit, though Tony couldn't have said why. He'd been sleeping for three weeks already, hadn't he? But Rhodey's shoulder was comfortable and safe, and he'd slipped away quicker than he'd realized.

It was dark when he woke up again. Rhodey was gone, which, okay, that was a disappointment. Not unexpected though, given the other Avengers together would be enough to bully Rhodey home for some proper sleep. Alone, Rhodey could take any one of them, but not even War Machine could take the full team.

What did surprise him were Natasha and Clint - Romanov and Barton? Where did this put them on formalities? Tony was bad with those on a good day, but this dreamscape business had really messed him up - anyway, they were playing cards at his bedside. Natasha (too scary for nicknames, unused to touching, surprisingly protective, and just as deadly) made a displeased noise as Clint (Legolas, Cupid, guilt and anger, still needs reassurance that the team needed him) put his cards down and passed Tony a cup of water.

"Thanks," Tony said after a sip, glancing down at their winnings to ignore how weak he felt. "You're playing poker with goldfish as chips?" he asked.

"I've already cleared him out of two months' paychecks," Natasha said with a shrug, glancing down at her bountiful winnings and the ten goldfish crackers Clint had left.

"Not true," Clint returned. "I just eat my winnings. Why waste them by saving things?" he asked, popping one of them in his mouth as proof.

"Remind me never to play poker with you guys," Tony said, glancing around the now empty-feeling room. There were five other beds and a curtained off area in the corner, but the beds were all empty this time. It was unnerving.

"Please, you'd be counting cards the whole time," Clint said, shuffling the cards. "The others are back at the tower. They're safe. It's our shift to watch over you."

The casual tone Clint used kept the words from burning. He supposed Clint knew a bit about waking up and needing to know everyone was still alive after turning against them. It didn't stop him from being unable to meet their eyes. Not only had he effectively killed them, but now they knew... Clint knew about his fear of water, and the loneliness that led to Tony building his own friends. And yeah, Tony knew how pathetic that was. He didn't even want to think about what Natasha's revisions on his file would look like after that tower.

He started, nearly dropping the drink as he felt Natasha's hand running though his hair. "But you had to learn this whole 'casual touch' thing like I did," he said before he could stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

"That doesn't mean neither of us enjoy this kind of contact," Natasha said, continuing the petting. Which - point. With his memories, he knew enough that he could lean into the touch without it being totally inappropriate. He let his eyes fall shut for a moment just to take in the feeling of her fingers. Then he looked up at her uncertainly, trying to figure out her motives. It was much harder to do in the world outside his mind. He almost wished he'd taken more advantage of it there, because Black Widow was a mystery ninety-five percent of the time.

"Remember what I said about us liking you, despite everything? You'd have been able to tell if I was lying," Clint said, stealing a goldfish from a third pile of crackers. It wasn't as big as Natasha's, but it held a decent amount. "I meant that," Clint finished, tossing the goldfish back in his mouth. "You're a pain in the ass, but you're _our_ pain in the ass, so don't forget it."

The problem was that if he deflected or tried for sarcasm, the two trained spies would know and Tony would just feel pathetic If he asked them _why_, which was a fairly pertinent question and one he was still debating if he wanted to know the answer to, he'd also feel pathetic. He ran a few probabilities, but Natasha ultimately took the choice from him. "Just accept it, kotyonok. We don't blame you for what happened, and we like you. Think of it as a universal mystery that will never be solved."

"Or would drive you mad to know the truth?" Tony added. He waved it off when they both looked up at him in confusion. He needed to stop quoting, though it was good to dip into science fiction instead of just the classics this time. "Never mind, but the Chitauri space whale, which sorry for that, by the way, and the rats... which, also sorry about the rats. I've just remembered I was terrified of the Rat King in the Nutcracker when my mother took me to see it. In my defense, I was six."

"They were in your mind, yes," Natasha said, her lips quirking with just a hint of amusement. "And don't think I've forgotten being turned into a _swan_. But if it were just a defense mechanism, they would have backed off when you tried to protect us. Amora was using her influence with the spell to keep us from helping you."

"Though we need to have a talk about suicide dives," Clint said, pouting. It was enough to know that Clint wasn't holding a grudge for the whale, and Tony gave a mental sigh of relief. "If I have to sit through talks about suicide dives, so do you."

"Only a forty-percent chance. Much better odds than you jumping off buildings and expecting one of us to notice and catch you," he reminded Clint. He looked down as Natasha brushed his bangs aside. "And she was going to kill all of you no matter what I did. It was the best plan."

"Aye, you are one of the bravest men I have the honor to call my friend," Thor (bigger than life, divine biceps, Blondie, Goldilocks, alien, warm) said, coming into the room. It immediately felt less empty, and Tony relaxed a little. It still wasn't everyone, but it was enough to ease his remaining doubts.

"I did kill you," Tony said, hiding as much of the broken tone from his voice as he could. Not only that, but Thor had watched _everything_. It was terrifying, to have someone know that much about him.

While Clint had not made a move to touch him as he had done in the dreamscape, and Natasha was... still Natasha (despite the hair-petting that Tony could get used to), Thor had no qualms about plopping down on Tony's bed and pulling him into a massive hug. Thor's biceps were really something else. "The dreamscape would have killed me when you left it, had you not done so. You knew this."

Tony swallowed. "I _thought_ it might." Amora had confirmed it later, but he'd been guessing at the time. He was really going to have to have a chat with Steve, who'd offered to stay with him under the desk (waiting for Rhodey - working on small, delicate circuits in his safe haven) until the reactor went out.

"Then you saved my life, rather than kill me, and for that I owe you my thanks," Thor said, his voice brooking no arguments.

"But if you saw everything then-"

"I saw a very brave, resilient, resourceful, and kind mortal whose sufferings and deeds should be sung and celebrated for all new generations to revere," Thor said. "You have suffered greatly, my friend, yet you still push forward. That is an admirable quality."

Tony blinked. Thor said all of that with a perfectly straight face, like he'd meant every word. How was he even meant to _respond_ to something that ridiculous? And no, he wasn't going to admit to the warmth that felt like it was spreading through his chest. "Uh, thanks big guy. Sounds great. I think." Time to rest, enjoy his godly body pillow, and hope that this topic didn't come up again. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. "But why did she go after me?" Tony asked, trying to change the subject. "Did I get the Avenger short straw or something?"

Thor looked thoughtful at this, while Clint shrugged. "She was aiming for Rogers," Natasha pointed out. That made a lot more sense. Steve probably would have fallen for her helpless goddess spiel in a heartbeat.

"Nay, Lady Widow," Thor said. "Amora sides with my brother and has learned to be clever. I believe her target was always Anthony, and she found a better way to hit him than to target him directly."

"Yeah, but Cap would have been a lot more receptive to the story she came up with about being a goddess in distress," Tony said, wondering if it was an Asgardian mind set thing. Maybe she had thought he was the weakest link and the easiest to take out? Thor could not be implying that Tony was easier to hit by aiming at Captain America, because that was just ridiculous. If it was true, then it was Steve's fault, because he was always throwing that stupid shield around and leaving himself open, and Tony couldn't just let a national icon die no matter how big the stick up Steve's ass was.

Okay, maybe it had become a bit of a habit.

"I do not think it mattered if you believed her lies, just that you were no longer a threat."

So instead of the weakest link, he was the strongest? Not that he wasn't, because hey, the Iron Man armor was that awesome, but most people didn't seem to agree and Tony Stark out of the suit was the least deadly of all of them.

Natasha nodded, staring at Tony in a curious manner. "Hit us where we can't recover from," she said, an admiration for the tactic slipping into her voice. "If she'd gone after the head, Steve, we'd have rallied and fought back. Instead, she went after the heart, and we would have taken longer to recover. With Rogers still adjusting to this time period, the Avengers would have fallen apart. You were the logical choice."

"You've lost me," Tony said after a moment. "Which, bravo, you've confused a genius, provided that made any sense and wasn't just rambling. You don't need me to keep the Avengers together. Besides, Steve's a strategic genius, even though I can still beat him at chess, so he'd-"

"You bought a tea set," Natasha said simply.

"Yes?" Now he was really baffled.

"You bought a tea set with all of my favorite teas after we all moved in, then did the same for Bruce. But you only got one tea kettle, making sure we'd have to share it. To give us a common ground without recriminations. And you 'forgot' to get another kettle until we talked about our mistrust for each other. Not to mention you destroyed the other four kettles Bruce or I bought."

"That was completely accidental," Tony said defensively as she stopped petting him to tug his hair gently in warning.

"No, it wasn't," she said. And yeah, she had a point, but it had been worth it to see Bruce and Natasha playing backgammon one night while waiting for the tea to brew, both of them finally at ease in each other's presence.

"You asked about Loki," Thor said before Tony could start a childish argument. He looked at Clint briefly, who stiffened at the name, but nodded for Thor to continue. "He wronged you and your world grievously, but you asked me what my brother had been like before."

"Understanding the enemy," Tony said easily. It was the same excuse he'd given at the time, because that was better than admitting he knew quite a bit about family betrayals and relentlessly going over every interaction with Obadiah in his head as he tried to understand if Obie had always been that way or if Tony had done something wrong somewhere along the line and never noticed.

"An excuse," Thor said. "You helped me work through Loki's betrayal and grieve."

"I-"

"You gave Banner sanctuary, Rogers a home, the rest of us something to come back to. The Avengers could have been made up of any number of people, but it wouldn't have worked without you or Rogers. You're a balanced equation. You take one side out, and the rest falters," Natasha said.

"You make us sound codependent." Which was a terrible thought, since depending on Tony was always a bad idea. And anyway, if there was anyone Tony couldn't live without, it was Pepper. Natasha was implying that Tony and Steve needed each other. They had a truce, yeah, but it was a fragile one at best before this whole mess in his mind had started.

"I do not think anyone else would have convinced you to leave your desk sanctuary," Thor said. "Just as you convinced him that he had to keep going after Lady Widow fell."

"He falls, you catch him," Clint added, speaking for the first time in a while. "And he keeps you from going too far over the edge. Fury hoped the two of you would even each other out."

Tony's eyes narrowed. He wouldn't put it past the scheming, one-eyed bastard, and he hated the fact he'd been that easy for Fury to manipulate.

"And while we're on the topic, don't think I don't know about the viruses that have been going around SHIELD HQ lately," Clint said.

Tony's head shot up in surprise. "How did you know I-"

"I didn't, not really. But you just confirmed a few long-term suspicions," Clint said smugly. And damn, Tony should know better than to fall for that one.

"What is this virus you speak of, honorable Hawk?" Thor asked curiously.

Natasha, on the other hand, was nowhere near amused. "Stark, that virus wasn't child's play. If Director Fury knew-"

"No one should have been able to trace that back to me," Tony said, glaring at Clint who just laughed.

"Relax, Stark. No one else will," Clint assured him. "The only reason I knew was because some of the worst hit were all openly hostile to me coming back to work after what Loki did to me. If I was the person who fixed it, they'd have to thank me. So I tried something I overheard you talking about for viruses, and funny enough, it cleared the virus right up. That, combined with who got the virus, tipped me off."

"They were irritating," Tony said, unable to come up with an excuse for that one. "And I thought I was being subtle about mentioning the fix."

"Actually, I was impressed with you on that one. I didn't even know you knew I was in the vents," Clint said. Tony wasn't going to tell him about the heat sensors he'd installed in the vents, because hey, one-upping a spy was kind of awesome. Clint could find out on his own. "Suggesting that I fix their computers though? Not so subtle."

"I didn't do that." That he could deny flat out. He hadn't.

"So that long, drawn-out story about Senator Sterns and how good it felt to one-up him and force him into thanking you wasn't a suggestion? While complaining about a virus the finance department got?" Clint asked.

Touché.

Thor laughed heartily, patting Tony on the back a little too hard. Even a god had to smile sheepishly at Natasha's glare, cowed for jostling Tony too much. Tony wondered how long he'd have to put up with her protectiveness. It was, admittedly, better than wondering how long she would put up with him before killing him and/or why the hell she was being protective in the first place.

"You are indeed the heart that keeps the Avengers going," Thor boomed, smiling brightly down at him.

Tony didn't meet his eyes though, looking down at the arc reactor. It gave off a faint light under the shirt Rhodey or Pepper must have insisted on. Hospital gowns only made Tony try to check himself out sooner. "You might want to pick another metaphor, big guy. I don't know if anyone told you, but I've got a bad heart."

"I think it's apt," Natasha said, resuming petting his hair to stall Tony's argument. Now that was playing dirty. "Your heart was broken, so you found a way to patch it up and keep going. And you do the same for us, because you know how it's done. It's like kintsugi."

"What?" Clint asked as Tony raised an eyebrow. Thor was intrigued.

"I know you've studied Japanese during your business deals with Fujikawa, Stark. You know what it means."

"I don't, someone explain," Clint said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"To repair with gold," Tony said. "It's when you repair pottery with a lacquer resin sprinkled with powdered gold. Old Japanese art. I might have dabbled a bit with it on a business trip, because it sounded interesting."

"And there's the understanding that the piece is more beautiful for being broken," Natasha added.

"You have thought about this way too much. And that is way more poetic than I can handle right now," Tony said, turning into his godly body pillow and hiding against Thor's chest. Number Six: Cowardly. He was more than willing to hide in those pectorals.

"You were the one being poetic in the dreamscape," Clint said.

Tony stuck his tongue out, and Natasha ignored him. "There is one thing I didn't get while we were in your mind," Natasha said, saving Tony from the awkward, but not before privately laughing at his expense, he was sure.

"Only one thing? What about those quotes I just mentioned? And the ridiculously low tech dreamscape?" Clint asked.

"Amora couldn't block everything, so some memories of archetypes and novels from his early days must have been deemed unimportant enough to let through," Natasha said, rolling her eyes. "Though you're a lot more well-read than I would have guessed, Stark."

"I'll get you and Steve _The Dark Is Rising_ sequence. You can thank me later. Also, genius," he reminded her absently, a bit preoccupied with petting Thor's biceps, because he was taking advantage while he still could. "Not exclusively for math and mechanics, and I _did_ have to sit through regular school for a while before they let me skip ahead too much. I got bored."

"I'll remember that," Natasha said dryly, and he could tell she was making a mental note of Tony's distractions as well, but that wasn't overly important. "All of the people in your life were represented by objects. The boxing ring for Happy, the Castle for your father. Steve mentioned a desk Colonel Rhodes said he recognized from the description and a pepper-shaker you wouldn't let go of. There was even a taser that you'd lost." _Coulson_. Comforting, with a bit of sorrow. Tony bit the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting to that, because he didn't think he could live with Natasha if she ever figured that one out.

"We were the only ones actually there," Natasha continued. "But there was another man there too, dressing your wounds after Clint was forced back here."

"A man?" Tony asked, not remembering anyone else there.

"Steve said there was someone else while he fought a Hydra, but it seemed like he was trying to help, so Steve concentrated on the fight," Clint added.

Tony winced. The last thing Steve needed to go up against was a Hydra, regardless of the irony. That was almost worse than throwing the space whale back at Clint.

Thor looked thoughtful; he wasn't gripping Tony as tightly. "My brother spoke of such things when he researched the fruit as a child. Sometimes, mortal souls already passed may visit a dreamscape to give aid to those they were close to in life."

It took Tony a moment to sort through that, because really, who spoke like that? He could understand Shakespeare, but Thor's phrases sometimes took a moment before the brain synapses started working. Or maybe that just came from the fact that he had the body of a god. "You're saying a ghost helped me?" he asked skeptically. "I don't believe in ghosts." Or magic, but he'd been forced to recognize that recently, which he didn't appreciate in the least. "Besides, who would come back from the dead to help me? Don't try to run that BS about my parents either." Howard may have made a video about how proud he was, but it was several years too late and would it have killed Howard to say it to his face just once?

"I saw the man as well, helping you through the mist," Thor said. "He was tall, wearing Midgardian spectacles and..."

Thor went on describing the man, with Natasha adding a few details, but Tony had stopped listening. Steady, ghost-like hands. The feeling of _pride_ at the end when he...

"Hey. Hey, Tony. Look at me. Are you alright?"

Clint. Tony blinked, and suddenly Clint was in his face, trying to get his attention. Tony's eyes were surprisingly wet, and he had to blink a few times before it went away.

"Fine," Tony croaked out, forcing himself to drink the water from his nightstand, since his throat was so obviously dry. Clint gripped his shoulder lightly, just enough to remind him that he wasn't alone.

"Someone you know?" Clint asked casually, as if he wasn't actually interested in the answer.

Tony nodded, not willing to trust his voice again just yet, and he took Clint's feigned out. It was a lot harder to deflect than usual, or maybe Tony had gotten used to being in his own mind where it was impossible to hide these things, especially from himself. Either way, it _sucked_, and there was no way he could talk about Yinsen yet. He should have more control than this. Even if Yinsen was proud of...

Thor started to say something, but a sharp look from Natasha cut him off. He looked a bit lost for a moment, before wrapping Tony back in a hug.

"Really, I'm not everyone's personal teddy bear," he groused, though he didn't try to break the hug.

Clint shrugged, leaning back finally and shuffling the cards before he dealt a new hand. It wasn't until Natasha passed one of the piles to Thor that he realized who the third pile of Goldfish crackers had been for. It was a welcome distraction. "You're doing pretty well, Goldilocks," Tony said as Thor looked over his cards while still not letting Tony go.

Thor looked down at his goldfish, a small frown on his face. "Nay, I thought my winnings were greater."

"She stole more than me," Clint said, hands in the air at Thor's suspicious glance.

"Thor is unbelievably lucky," Natasha grumbled, ignoring Clint's accusation. Tony was willing to bet that meant she was just as guilty.

"Don't I get to play?" Tony asked.

"Card counter," Clint and Natasha said at the same time.

"I resent that," Tony said. Just because he was banned from all card games in Vegas (there was a reason he kept to dice), didn't mean he _meant_ to count cards.

"I brought you something to keep you occupied though," Clint said with a grin. He tossed something at Tony.

Tony caught the thin tablet, turning it over and on in a smooth motion. At least he'd be able to get some work done while he was waylaid in the hospital. He needed to come up with something good for Pepper before he'd get in her good graces again, and he wanted to start looking into alloys for the Avengers' body armor. Dreamscape or not, the Avengers had gone down far too easily and that was going to be number one on his priority-

"Good evening, Sir. May I say it's a pleasure to have you awake again."

"JARVIS!" Tony looked down at the tablet in surprise, then up at Clint, who shrugged.

"I just asked if there was anything he could uplink into or access so that he could visit too."

Tony's throat closed as he caressed the side of the touch screen. It was far too good to hear JARVIS's voice, especially since he'd counted on doing quite a bit of hacking to allow JARVIS to connect here in the heart of SHIELD medical. His panic on the ship had left a tension that had never quite gone away, but now it was soothed. And this was way too many _feelings_ to be dealing with in such a short time. Still, Tony smiled at Clint, a real, genuine smile that got him a lopsided grin in return. "Vacation's over, JARVIS. Time to get back to work," Tony said, bringing up SHIELD's network to access the current designs.

"That is most disappointing, Sir. I was rather looking forward to Greece."

"The last thing we need is Dummy using a fire extinguisher on the Parthenon."

"Of course, Sir. What was I thinking?"

Tony spent the rest of the evening working on a new alloy while stealing from Natasha's winnings (number Thirteen, still in effect and still just as lucky), curled up against Thor as Clint continued to lose. It was an odd sensation, having everyone surrounding him, but Tony found he liked it. Maybe Natasha was right. Accepting that it was an unsolvable mystery might not be so bad.

* * *

It turned out that Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy had all been unavailable when Thor had come back with the fruit. Rhodey had still been trying to get leave, and Pepper and Happy were on the west coast trying to keep the board from doing anything drastic, and Steve had deemed it too dangerous to wait. Which was why they hadn't come into the dreamscape as well. In a way, Tony was glad. He wasn't sure he could have handled killing the three of them. The Avengers had been bad enough. It meant that he was a bit clingy when any of his favorite triumvirate were visiting though, even if he'd deny that fact to his dying day. He'd missed them.

He was showing Rhodey some new designs for War Machine he'd just drawn up when Bruce cleared his throat, standing in the doorway. "I'll go find you lunch," Rhodey said, ruffling Tony's hair.

"I expect burgers," Tony demanded, not wanting Rhodey to leave. He wasn't clingy enough to pull Rhodey back down though, because that would be embarrassing. That didn't mean he wasn't tempted. "Nice big, fat ones without onions. And coffee."

"I don't think your stomach's ready for that much grease after three weeks on life support," Bruce said.

Bruce. Hulkster, friend, genius. The first person he'd genuinely liked. Cookie, short for Cookie Monster, because Bruce liked Sesame Street and Tony had caught him stealing chocolate chip cookies at three am. And that was the mark of a true monster, stealing the last cookie. Not the Hulk. The Hulk knew how to share.

"The Doc knows what he's talking about. I'll see what's on your approved list," the traitor said, ducking out before Tony could threaten to put back all of the Hammer tech.

Tony kept his eyes on his tablet, not looking at Bruce. "JARVIS, could you run-"

"Tony," Bruce said, his voice low. "We need to talk."

Tony did not wince. Instead he saved his work with a flick of his fingers and forced himself to look up. He really hated that phrase. "What's up, Cookie? How's life been treating you? Any green surprises recently, or have you still been keeping the Other Guy in time out after-"

"I hulked out when I woke up after the mirrors. The Other Guy wasn't happy."

This time Tony did wince, looking over at the corner covered by sheets. He assumed there was a flattened bed under the mess that the hospital staff hadn't been able to clean up with all the guests he was having. He'd wondered, but scratched the thought because that wasn't near the amount of damage the Hulk could create. They must have really been lucky this time, or maybe the Hulk hadn't wanted to hurt the equipment keeping Tony alive. He felt oddly touched, but the current conversation was with Bruce, whom he didn't need to have the link to know what the other man was feeling. "You're angry."

"Yes," Bruce said, taking a seat by Tony's bed. "I'm always angry, remember?"

Tony brought up a game of chess on his tablet. JARVIS made the first move, after a polite text reminder that Dr. Banner would like his attention. Tony ignored it.

Bruce sighed. "Tony there's something I want you to promise me."

"What's that, buttercup?" Tony asked, moving a pawn.

Grabbing the tablet from Tony's hands, Bruce glanced over the set-up. Then he made a few disastrous moves that allowed JARVIS to checkmate within seconds. Then he glared back at Tony, who raised his hands in surrender, debating whether he should hack his scores or leave it as a monument to Bruce's anger management. He might leave it, then see if the Hulk was up for a game and compare scores. Provided the tablet wasn't smashed first.

"Tony," Bruce sighed again, shaking his head as he took a deep breath. Tony briefly saw a flash of green, but he wasn't scared of the Hulk. Hell, it'd get him out of a conversation on feelings, so Tony would welcome the Other Guy. Sadly, he had no such luck.

"Promise me you won't try to protect me like that again," Bruce said finally.

"So do you want me to stop blocking General Ross or-"

"You know what I mean," Bruce growled. Tony stopped talking. He wasn't used to having that anger directed at him, no matter how much he annoyed Bruce, which made this conversation all the worse. "You never should have put me in that mirror. Tony, _you put me in a cage._"

Tony felt his eyes widen, guilt squeezing at his damaged heart. "I didn't know-"

"I know," Bruce waved him off, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. "You couldn't have known, without your memories. I just... I need you to promise me, Tony. You said when I agreed to stay here that there'd be no cages."

"In my defense, you were skeptical of that at the time," Tony said, not meeting Bruce's eyes. He wished he still had the tablet, if just to have something to do with his hands.

"I never realized how much that trust meant until you took it away," Bruce said quietly.

Tony flinched. He couldn't even deny that, since it was essentially what he did. But no matter how much Tony trusted Bruce, he couldn't...

"You were afraid of me in the end," Bruce said.

"I'm not-"

"You were afraid I'd leave you if I saw too much. You thought that of all of us."

"Sounds really pathetic when you put it like that," Tony said, staring down at his hands. There should be a scar there, from when he'd held the mirror shard too tightly. A brand of his guilt, and how he'd failed Bruce. It wasn't there, but he could still feel the cut.

Bruce's hands came into view, taking both of his and trailing his thumb along the phantom scar. "We're all still here," Bruce said. "We haven't left after what we saw, and you know more about us now too. I know you saw about..."

"Your dad puts mine in perspective," Tony said, wishing platitudes didn't always fall so flat. There was nothing he could do to help Bruce with that.

Bruce squeezed his hand gently. "And do you want to stop being my friend now that you know?"

Tony snapped his head up at that. "Of course not, Bruce. That wasn't your fault! It's different from..."

"None of us are completely virtuous, Tony. We've all done things we're not proud of," Bruce said, smiling shyly as he let go of Tony's hand to push his glasses up. "Most of your faults we already knew about. It doesn't change who you are now, though. And who you are now is someone we're all proud to have as a friend and teammate."

Tony stayed silent as Bruce moved from his chair to sit beside Tony on the bed, pulling him into a hug. This time, he had his memories of learning how to respond to that kind of affection, and though he still felt a little awkward, he buried his face against Bruce's neck. He couldn't feel the pride from his friend or know if Bruce was telling the truth, but even if it wasn't... He'd already failed to trust Bruce once. For now, he'd go along with it.

"I'm sorry," Tony said, his voice breaking suspiciously, but Bruce was kind enough not to mention it.

"Just promise me that there'll be no more cages, not even to protect me," Bruce said.

"I meant that. No cages," Tony promised. "I swear I did. Still do. I'm sorry I didn't-"

"It's okay." Bruce hugged him tighter, almost painfully so, but Tony didn't mind. Bruce's laugh was a little strained as he clung on. "You know, it's one thing to be told you aren't afraid of the Other Guy, but it's so hard to tell when it's just a show you put on. But you really..."

"Never had a reason to fear the Hulk. I am a genius. Why does everyone keep forgetting that?" Tony asked, smiling against Bruce's neck. He'd had too many people put him down after he'd tried to change. He wasn't going to let that happen to Bruce too.

"Yeah," Bruce breathed out. They sat like that for a while, Bruce slowly relaxing as he held on to Tony. "The Other Guy is still going to yell at you the next time he comes out, ya know," Bruce said as he pulled away finally, still keeping hold of Tony's hand. "He thinks you're pretty stupid for a genius."

"I'm brilliant. If he says otherwise, I take back the polymer that makes your Hulk pants stretchy," Tony groused, though he was smiling broadly at Bruce.

"You're something else, Boss, I'll admit that."

Tony looked up, nearly standing before Bruce held him back down on the bed. "Happy!" Comfort. Safe. Trust. Tony thought back to the boxing ring and smiled. It's where he'd ended up after Clint's death, and that meant a lot.

Happy walked in, taking one of the chairs by Tony's bed. "Good to see you awake, Boss. You had us worried. You know how Ms. Potts hates job hunting." There was teasing mixed with relief in Happy's tone, as he nodded at Bruce, who still hadn't let go of Tony's hands. "Dr. Banner."

"Bruce, please," Bruce said, eventually letting go of one of Tony's hands so that he could shake Happy's, but he did so almost grudgingly. Like he didn't want to let go. "And doesn't Pepper technically run the company?"

"The rest of the R&D department are too low maintenance. Ms. Potts would be bored within a week," Happy responded with a gentle smile.

"I resent that," Tony said.

"So when do I get to bust you out of here?" Happy asked, ignoring Tony's glare.

"Tomorrow," Tony said at the same time Bruce said, "A couple more days."

Bruce glared at Tony, who grinned back. "Come on, who are you going to believe, Happy? Me, or a green rage monster who's not even a real medical doctor?"

Happy shifted uncomfortably, then nodded to Bruce. "I'm betting on the green guy. Sorry, Boss."

"Traitor!" Tony said, throwing a pillow at an amused Happy. It was good to have his friends back.

Now if only he could talk to Steve.

* * *

~TBC~

* * *

Memory: Steve, why must you be so difficult when Tony is the one being the emotionally mature one for once? XD Good thing that's what the epilogue is for. Please do review and let me know what you think. The quote of this chapter is more because I couldn't go a whole fic with Odssey references and not use this poem.

Quote of the Chapter:

"Though much is taken, much abides; and though  
We are not now that strength which in old days  
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;  
One equal temper of heroic hearts,  
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will  
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Lord Alfred Tennyson, "Ulysses"


	10. Epilogue: The best laid schemes

Anthropos Polytropos  
By: Memory Dragon  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers movie-verse, nor do I make any claim to.  
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Thor, Amora the Enchantress, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan.  
Warnings: PTSD. Mentions of past torture. Temporary character death that the characters are aware is (probably) only temporary, though it still takes it's mental toll on them. Mentions of potential child abuse. Mind fuckery. Minor self-abuse. Cliff hangers. Implied bullying. Generally dark fic, though there is a happy ending and no one actually dies. Not Iron Man 3 compliant in the slightest. If you have any questions about the warnings, I'd be more than happy to clarify as best I can.  
Thanks: Many thanks to narwhale_callin for the beta. Considering I have a long history of beta's dropping off the face of the planet mid-fic, I really appreciate you sticking with me. 3 Also thanks to Margaret, Lupanari, KimikoAmaya, and jwojak for reviewing, and to everyone who's followed along either from the beginning or who have just stumbled across it now. And in regards to your question, Margaret, JARVIS is in the dreamscape. Check out Clint's chapter, where he's on the ship. XD  
Notes: Well. This is the end. XD Took long enough, I suppose, though it's nice that I haven't needed to miss an update. That doesn't happen often. I'm kind of sad to see this end, to be honest. It's a multinational baby, since I wrote it in the States and typed and posted it in China.

To those that have been reading from the beginning, and to those who are just now stumbling upon it, I hope the journey has been enjoyable, if a long one. Hopefully the ending has been worth the long road.

* * *

Epilogue: The best laid schemes

* * *

Steve didn't come back to the hospital for a visit, but everyone else did (even Nick Fury, which for the record, Tony could not have predicted even as a Futurist), so he tried not to be too disappointed. After all, that was four more people than usual who sat at his bedside, and it almost made the hospital stay bearable.

Thor left for Asgard after Tony told him what he'd heard of Amora's plans (The Executioner was apparently one of Amora's minions and not nearly as ominous as he sounded), but he promised to have Heimdall keep watch - and okay, that was a little creepy and Tony hoped 'watching' meant 'looking away when Tony was needing some privacy', but Thor had bounded off before Tony could ask, so he was left to his paranoia.

As it was though, Tony was recovering pretty well. He was glad he'd only been in a coma for three weeks. Atrophy would have sucked.

There was a small party for him when he was finally discharged from the hospital, which Steve had attended - briefly, while managing to avoid Tony completely apart from a polite 'welcome back'. Steve must have been taking ninja lessons from Natasha, because he'd been impossible to track down. It wasn't until he was down in the lab and checking things over (re: showering his bots with attention to make up for being absent for a month, not that he'd admit that) that he really let himself contemplate Steve's strained smile.

Steve was a problem. An interesting one, granted, but still a problem. Out of all the Avengers, Steve was the most solitary. Sure, he got along well enough with the others and the work crews that helped to rebuild the city, but after conferring with JARVIS, Tony realized that Steve never went outside of his own floor beyond work or getting food. Steve drew, destroyed punching bags, and made his own meals instead of eating out. He'd never realized how _lonely_ Steve was. And okay, he'd just lost everyone he'd ever known after his Rip Van Winkle routine, but that didn't mean it was healthy. Captain America shouldn't have to deal with the grief all by himself. Especially not if he's just pushing it away without actually dealing with it. Pushing it down and away.

Tony knew all about bad coping mechanisms. Hell, he was the king of them. And he knew how they backfired when the mechanisms failed. Tony was intimately familiar with that sort of explosion. Granted, he was familiar with most kinds of explosions, but that was beside the point.

He brought up Steve's itinerary after hacking through SHIELD's databanks, glad to see a therapist on there at least once a week. Debriefings, history lessons, working crews, technology lessons... God, that was depressingly boring. No wonder Steve was a wet blanket. He was worse than Puddleglum. Totally a new nickname for anyone who was being grumpy.

Tony could at least take care of the tech lessons, because he could make those more interesting than some junior agent with a hero complex could. And he could get Steve out more. Tony hated art and museums, but if it got Steve out of the Tower, he'd do it. Tony scheduled a few dinners and charity events that Tony had to attend as well, along with two movies and a baseball game. To top it all off, he sent for a full set of the _Chronicles of Narnia_ (older editions that didn't mess with the proper order of the books), because everyone should read them and Steve was a bit precious when he actually understood a reference.

He sent an email with the updated schedule to Agent Sitwell. He could feel the disapproval radiating off his return email, but there was no negative, and Steve's updated schedule was posted a few moments later with all of Tony's changes intact.

"JARVIS, where is Steve right now?" Tony asked.

"Captain Rogers is in his rooms, Sir. He appears to be drawing." Steve's arm was better, if he was drawing, Tony noted with some relief.

"Thanks, J," Tony said, giving Dummy's 'head' one last pat before heading down to Steve's floor. He didn't bother knocking. Technically, he owned the place, so why bother? Besides, JARVIS would have warned him if Steve were in the midst of something private.

Steve was sitting on the plush brown couch Tony had hand-picked after testing the comfy-ness personally, because obviously Steve needed help relaxing. He had a sketchbook in his lap, but his pencil wasn't moving and he was staring at the paper with a lost expression that tore at Tony's arc reactor. He stood for a moment, wondering what to do. Food was always good, but this was a conversation better had privately and Tony was well aware his cooking skills had never progressed beyond the level of a college freshman. It was edible to him, but generally not to the rest of the world. Delivery? Tony pulled out his phone and ordered a half dozen pizzas from his favorite place, wondering if that would be enough considering Steve was a black hole when it came to eating.

Officially out of reasons to keep from drawing attention to himself, Tony sauntered into the room and plopped down next to a surprised Steve. He peered over the notepad before Steve could hastily close it, freezing at what he saw. "That's..."

Steve sighed, closing the pad and hiding the dark Castle from view. Even outside of his mind, the effect of it was almost dizzying. "I was wondering how he'd changed so much, and my fingers just sort of started drawing it," Steve explained, running a hand through his hair. "Stark, what are you doing here?"

Tony flinched at the name, trying to pull himself together after seeing the Castle again. He plastered on a fake smile. "I ordered pizza. You want some?"

Steve glanced at him warily. "It's almost one in the morning."

"And everyone else is asleep, so you should join me," Tony said, waving it off. He didn't mention he'd had to force Rhodey and Bruce out of his lab so they could sleep before he could get some quiet, because that was neither here nor there.

The wariness didn't leave Steve's eyes, and Tony wondered what he'd done to deserve the distrust. Not that he didn't think Steve had a good reason, but usually Tony remembered what he'd done. "Why are you doing this?" Steve asked.

_Because Captain America shouldn't be stuck in his living room tormented by the past_. "You promised to talk to me," Tony said instead.

Steve tensed, but nodded, getting up to put the sketchbook away. "Did you ever find out who you were waiting for under the desk? Colonel Rhodes said he might know who, but he wouldn't tell me."

Tony flushed, looking away. "It was Rhodey, so I don't know why he didn't just admit it," he said, looking down. Probably to keep from embarrassing Tony. Rhodey could be oddly protective about some things. "It was his bed too, from his dorm room, though the desk was actually downstairs in the lobby. It's how we met."

Steve snorted. "What were you doing under the desk?"

Tony considered a lie. It wasn't like he had to say anything, much less the truth. Steve would believe it if he said he'd been drunk and it'd just become A Thing.

"Not everyone can repeatedly come home with black eyes and go unnoticed. The paparazzi started to get involved, and Dad threatened to bring me home if it kept happening. As much as he talked about how Steve Rogers never ran from a fight, he apparently didn't approve of his son doing the same when abuse scandals started popping up. And I couldn't go back home and deal with living with Howard," he said, hardly aware of the words tumbling out of his mouth. He kept babbling as Steve's head snapped up, his mouth dropping open. "I was fifteen, small, rich, and had a smart mouth. I was probably just easy pickings. But I could still sketch designs or read under the desk, and they never found me there, so it worked out in the end."

"Tony..." Steve said, sitting down beside him again.

Tony smiled at him, easy and relaxed as if getting beaten up regularly hadn't bothered him. "You were getting bullied, and that's all Howard did? He blamed you for it?" Steve continued, sounding horrified.

Tony shrugged. By that point, he and Howard had learned to avoid each other. So long as he lived away from home and stayed out of trouble, Tony could at least pretend that his father was proud of him. "Dear old Dad. He liked me best when I wasn't taking up his attention."

"Tony, I-"

But Tony didn't want to hear it, not from Captain America who got beaten up in random alleys for fun before he was all serum'ed up. So he pushed on, talking over whatever meaningless platitude Steve could come up with. "Anyway, they never found me, but Rhodey did. It took him a few weeks to coax me out, but he just... He wouldn't leave, no matter what I said to him. He kept coming back with snacks, or a new book. Sometimes he'd just sit there and talk. He must have thought I was crazy. Hell, he was crazy for putting up with me. That fact probably hasn't changed much over the years."

Steve remained silent, so Tony kept babbling to fill the quiet. "I eventually let him talk me out. After that, he'd find me there, or I'd break into his dorm room, but I didn't get beat up any more. Rhodey probably had something to do with that too, come to think of it. Actually, that sounds pretty pathetic, so can you just forget I mentioned it? I'm going to check if the pizza is here yet, and you can brood here or whatever you do until it-"

Tony stood up as he spoke, but Steve's hand around his wrist kept him from leaving. He tugged, but Steve only gripped harder. "Um, I need that hand, ya know. For inventing and blowing stuff up, which I could probably do one-handed, sure, but it's easier if-"

"_Tony_."

"-I've got both hands. And you've been avoiding me since I woke up, and hey, not really a change, but I'm thinking that this whole emo thing you've got going on probably isn't healthy. Not that I can talk, being the king of unhealthy coping - Cap!"

He glared at Steve, who didn't look the least bit sorry about half-yanking Tony's arm off as he was dragged back to the couch. "Last time I asked you, you said you didn't know. Thought you wouldn't want me around after..." Steve said hesitantly, finally letting go of Tony's wrist, even though it looked like he didn't want to. "Why do you hate me?"

Tony winced. That was a valid question, even if Tony didn't want to answer it. "If I tell you, you have to talk about this whole closing off thing," he demanded, since he was really reaching his limits with over-sharing his past. No, scratch that. He'd gone way past that point while still in the dreamscape. Even if he did owe Steve that much, he wanted something in return for it.

Steve tensed, but nodded. Which meant Tony actually had to come through and answer. Damn. Tony looked away, considering acting casual again before deciding against it. Steve might take that the wrong way and he really was _trying_ to be good this time. After everything he'd put Steve through, he deserved that much, and he couldn't afford Cap shutting him out if he said the wrong thing.

"It wasn't anything you did, not really," Tony started, thinking over his words. "It was just... the green-eyed monster, I guess. Not green rage monster, because those are awesome no matter what Bruce says. Even though I sort of don't want to know what kind of lecture the _Hulk_ wants to give me next time he comes out so-"

"Tony," Steve said, a bit of exasperation in his voice. This time Tony snapped his mouth shut, wondering if that counted as an explanation. Considering the confusion on Steve's face, he didn't think so. "You were jealous?" Steve asked.

"You could say that."

"Why?" Steve asked with honest bafflement. "I'm just a kid from Brooklyn. You've got all the smarts and money, and the armor makes up for any difference in strength." And oh, that was cute. Steve really was that clueless about his own body. Not that it was Tony's reason, but he could think of a lot of people who'd be jealous of that alone, yet it didn't even occur to Steve.

Right. There was a question he was supposed to answer. "He kept looking for you, did anyone ever tell you that?" Tony asked, not waiting for an answer as he stared at Steve's sketchbook that rested on the desk across the room. "He never stopped. He went out himself at least once a year, though the expedition itself never stopped. I know the official story is that the brakes gave out, but he always got drunk after coming back empty-handed, and the wreck was the day after he came back from his last visit."

He saw Steve's eyes widen, but Tony pushed forward, not thinking about his anger that Howard had to take his mom with him. Best to just rip the band-aid off in one fast jerk. "He talked about you a lot too. You could always tell he was proud to know you. Me, he could only say it to in a video screen when I was five in a message I didn't even know existed until a few months ago. It could have been staged, I suppose, if he was founding SHIELD like Fury said. Maybe it was a long-term way to keep me in line. Or maybe the disappointment only set in when I was older and still hadn't grown up to be like he wanted. Maybe it was real. All I know is that I spent years looking for that emotion in his eyes, because if he couldn't actually care about me, I could at least make him proud."

Tony closed his eyes, feeling more tired than he ever had with the palladium poisoning. This is why he hated feelings. "It wasn't like I didn't know what it looked like, since I'd seen it so often when he talked about _you_. Never found it directed at me though."

Tony fell silent for a while, not looking at Steve as he took in all of what Tony had said. Steve's shoulder was broad and inviting, but Tony didn't lean against it like he wanted to. He'd been dealing with this for years, after all. Why start needing comfort for it now?

But when Tony's name fell from Steve's lips, broken and strained in a tone that Tony couldn't stand to hear from anyone, he didn't want to hear it. A meaningless platitude from Captain America, or worse, Steve defending his father - Tony just couldn't handle it right now, not after going through all of that anew. "So yeah, guess that counts for jealousy. But I'm over needing Howard's approval. And yeah, I hated you for a while, but it wasn't your fault. I figured that out sometime after my parents died. It was just the earlier memories were getting through Amora's block better than the later ones, so the feeling of hating you was pretty strong."

He'd actually done a pretty good job of hiding that too, when they'd first met. Sure, they weren't instant 'BBFs Forever!' but Tony had acted maturely. He'd been downright _civil_, only rising to the bait after Steve had pushed under the influence of the Glow Stick of Doom. He'd mostly wanted to avoid this exact conversation, because Steve really didn't need all of this pushed on him. '_But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane, In proving foresight may be vain. The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, Gang aft agley,_' he thought to himself.

Those _quotes_. Tony sighed internally, hoping the others wouldn't realize just how pathetic _those_ were. What he'd told Natasha was true, but it was also easier to interact with a book than with people. Books were predictable, and followed formulas and equations. He could understand people in books, even if he couldn't do it in real life. A plot was the sum of its variables with a set pattern of exposition, rising action, climax, and resolution. After college, he'd tried to bury that part of him along with his parents, hiding his habits unless they were useful for getting someone into bed. He never gave up on reading though.

Natasha probably figured it out, but Tony had decided that ignoring her file on him was better for his health a while ago.

He started at the touch on his shoulder, drawing him out of thoughts he hadn't realized he'd gotten lost in. Tony looked up automatically before he realized he was meeting Steve's eyes. Too late. The guilt he found there was almost choking (and that was without the link to feed the emotion to him), so Tony smiled and tried to wave it off. "Christ, Cap. I told you it's not your fault. You were just an excuse. I'm sure Howard would have found a different one if it hadn't been you."

"Tony, stop acting like it doesn't matter! You were hurt because of..."

"Because of Howard," Tony finished for him. "You're a lot harder to keep a grudge against. Besides, I'm not the one acting like nothing matters." Two could play at hypocrisy, and Tony was definitely better at this game than Steve was.

Steve flinched this time, taking his hand off Tony's shoulder. Tony could see how much he needed the touch though. It grounded him to this time, unlike now when he was distancing himself from everything. "Tony, you don't have to keep trying now that-"

"I want to," Tony said. And it was true. He promised Steve in the dreamscape that he'd try to get past those feelings. After putting up with Tony at his worst and _still_ trying to save him, Tony couldn't just back down now. There weren't many people in the world that would do that. This... whatever it was between them, it was worth trying. "Steve..."

"How can you still want to try this when all I did was fail you?" Steve asked, anger building. "I promised I'd get you out of there, that I'd _stay_ and... I couldn't save Bruce and the others. I couldn't even help you. _You_ saved us, in the end."

"You did help," Tony protested, a little surprised by Steve's outburst. "Steve, that wasn't-"

"You believed in me, and I let you down."

Tony's back went rigid as he worked through the probabilities. "You were dead when I said that. Thor-"

"We didn't actually leave right after we... Only Thor, because you were gone from the dreamscape and there was a reaction headache from snapping back too fast," Steve explained, looking ashamed. "We all saw what happened for a little while after we died."

Tony thought back to his own death in Amora's mind, how he'd been able to listen in on her plans even with a hole in his chest. Bruce tracing the phantom scar on his palms. Natasha and Clint watching over him, as if he might break again, and with far more fondness than they'd ever shown him before.

Steve had heard all of what he'd said.

Damn, _that_ was embarrassing. Embarrassing times ten. "Steve, I... I wasn't blaming you. I was upset."

"I left you, even when I promised to stay. I couldn't even do that much," Steve said, looking down at his hands. "What good is Captain America in this time anyway, if I can't do anything right?"

Steve looked distant, like he was miles away instead of sitting next to Tony, and that was a little scary. Steve was alone like that, when he'd always been surrounded by people before the plane crash. James Barnes, the Howling Commandos, General Phillips, and Agent Carter... All of that was lost to him within seconds.

It wasn't like Steve didn't have a team now though, and Tony just had to find a way to make him see that. First, he had to bring Steve back from whatever dark path he'd wandered down.

There was an easy way to do that. Steve was someone who thrived off touch, and Tony was slightly appalled by how little people actually touched Steve since he'd woken up. Too much hero worship, and not enough seeing _Steve_. That didn't make him feel any less awkward as he leaned over and wrapped his arms around Steve's neck, hugging him tightly. Nope, that was still extremely awkward. Bruce would be so much better at this. Hell, _Clint_ would be-

"Tony?" Steve asked, his voice broken and lost as a hesitant hand touched Tony's back

Shit, he had to do this right. The others would kill him if he broke Captain America more. "You helped me. I don't think I'd have left the desk if you hadn't been there. You kept me alive when I would have died trying to save the others. You didn't fail me. Not me, or Natasha, Clint, Bruce, or Thor. You didn't fail any of us. You didn't fail Bucky either."

"Stark," Steve said warningly.

Shit. Wrong thing to say. "We wouldn't have won the war if you hadn't kept going. You didn't fail him just because-"

"I did," Steve grit out. "I couldn't get to him fast enough. I couldn't-" Steve choked the words off, trembling in Tony's arms. "He _fell_, and it was my fault."

"You didn't give up after he fell," Tony said, searching for more to say and knowing it wasn't enough.

"That supposed to make me feel better?" Steve asked as he tried to push Tony away.

In response, Tony clung like a limpet. Not that it would really put Steve off if he were determined to get out of the hug, but Tony refused to give up without a fight. "No," Tony said, thinking back to Yinsen's death and the empty feeling of his own failures that accompanied it. The feeling of Yinsen's pride went a long way towards healing that wound and several others, but it still didn't diminish the guilt. "But wasting your life feels like a much bigger betrayal. At least you're doing something they'd all be proud of."

Steve went silent at that, but at least he stopped trying to push Tony away. Except that brought back the awkwardness full force, and silence never sat well with him. Not when he felt like he should be moving, or doing something with his hands, or something more to _help_, because simply sitting there with Steve wasn't near enough. It took all of his effort not to start fidgeting, and he almost didn't notice that Steve was doing it again, packing everything away.

"No," Tony said, pulling back enough to glare. "That is unacceptable code. That will lead to user interface combustion and cascading system failure, and that _sucks_, trust me."

"Tony, what are you talking about?"

Back to first names. That was a good sign. "You can't keep pushing it away," Tony said. "I mean, yeah, I've got no room to talk with crappy coping mechanisms, but at least I'm dealing with it! You're not even doing that! You have to grieve sometime. And personal experience speaking here, it will happen sooner or later, usually at inopportune moments. Or in front of a whole group of people on your birthday party after alienating your best friend because you're dying, but hey. I'm a bad example. Learn from my mistakes instead of repeating them."

"Dying?"

"Long story," Tony said, attempting to keep them on topic. "I'll tell you later."

Steve focused on the coffee table rather than Tony. Tony felt just a little insulted, because he was way more interesting than a block of wood. "I can't..." Steve started, bracing himself to continue. "You said wasting your life is the worst betrayal. If I fell apart now, I don't think I could pull back together again."

"Then we'll find a string and tie you back together. No, duct tape! Duct tape is awesome," Tony said, ignoring Steve's confusion. He made a mental note to bring duct tape into Steve's room one night, along with glue and string, because Steve was staring at him like proof was needed. "We'll stick you back together with superglue if we have to. I've done it before with Dummy."

"People don't work like that, Tony," Steve said with something like fondness in his voice.

"Sure they do," Tony said. "Pepper and Rhodey put me back together all the time. And you've got all of us. You just have to _let_ us help. We may not be your old friends, but we still want to help you. The others are much better at it than me, since I'm usually on the other side but - Steve! I - Don't cry. I mean, crying is good. Maybe. Is it? Um, I could get someone else if you-"

"Shut up, Tony," Steve said, pulling Tony back into a tight hug. It felt much less awkward when Steve took control of the hug, which was good because Steve didn't seem to be letting go any time soon.

"Right. Shutting up. I can do that too. I'll just - ow! Okay, okay. Shutting up now." Tony attempted to glare at Steve for pinching him, but the angle was off. What was it that set Steve off? Tony couldn't tell if this was a good or a bad reaction either. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

"I don't know how..." Steve trailed off.

"We'll figure it out," Tony assured him, hiding the panic in his voice. He had no idea what Steve was talking about, but that sounded like a good thing to say. He thought back to Rhodey's first big break-up after they'd met, trying to remember what to do. Which didn't help, because Tony had panicked then too, babbling and offering to buy every kind of donut and sweet or fatty thing imaginable, because it was the only way Tony knew to help cope. Obviously drinking wouldn't work either. How do you deal with waking up one day and finding out everyone you knew was dead?

In the end, Tony remembered Clint's hands on his back, so he tried his best to soothe the tension out of Steve's shoulders. "Is this okay?" Tony asked eventually when the silence was too overwhelming. "It's not weird or-?"

"It's fine," Steve said, his voice sounding almost normal. He pulled back a little, though he still kept Tony close, and Tony could see his eyes were no longer threatened by tears. He breathed a sigh of relief, because Tony really wasn't ready for Captain America to cry on his shoulder, good thing or not.

"Tony..." Steve said, squeezing his shoulder gently, like there were too many words for him to actually speak and Tony was the one thing keeping him grounded.

"Hey, this is... It's okay, right? We're good. That's what friends do. I think? It's what Pep and Rhodey do, so I'm assuming - oh, I... We're friends?" Tony babbled.

A small, almost shy smile crossed Steve's face, and Tony felt his panic ease. "I think I'd like that."

"Great," Tony said, not entirely sure where to go from there. And really, this was a terrible idea. Rhodey could vouch for how horrible a friend he was, and Steve deserved someone less broken, but Tony couldn't bring himself to say all of that. "And, um, sorry about the whole..." Tony made a swinging motion as if he were holding a sword, "...sword thing."

"You were trying to protect me," Steve said. Then he added, "Though it was misguided."

"Touché."

"But I'll still forgive you, Teddy."

"Great. Fine, that's..." The name Steve used filtered through his thoughts. "That's undignified. I'm not the Avengers personal teddy bear. I'm completely un-cuddly. The opposite of cuddly. Prickly! I'm prickly. Not cuddly at all."

"If you say so," Steve said, tugging Tony closer.

"Really? That's how we're playing this, Cuddle bug?" Tony asked, though for all of his indignation, Tony didn't try to pull away.

"You did protect me, and the others," Steve said after a while. "You really are the ingenious hero."

"What?" Tony asked, his face heating up. Oh, for Christ's sake, he refused to _blush_ just because Steve called him a hero. Tony Stark did not blush.

"Odysseus. The ingenious hero who traveled far and wide. Though I think you put it differently," Steve explained as Tony fought his traitorous body from turning red.

"A man of many twists and turns," he replied automatically, wondering where the other line came from. A different translation from the original Greek, maybe? Not one he was familiar with, if so.

"It suits you," Steve said. There was still weariness in his eyes, and his smile was just a little strained, but it felt more real than any other smile he'd seen Steve give. Tony wasn't entirely sure how that expression got turned on him, but he wasn't going to argue. "Welcome home, Tony."

"It's good to be back."

And yeah, what do you know? If coming home now meant returning to his friends and the Avengers... It really was good to be back.

* * *

~FINI~

* * *

Memory: Whelp, that's the end. It feels good to finally be done with it, even if I'm a little sad. Hopefully it was a good ending, but I'll leave that up to you guys to decide. I've still got a Big Bang to post (even though that might not be for a while) and a sequel to History Lessons that I'm working on, so it won't be the last you'll hear from me in Avengers fandom. It'll be a bit strange not posting every Monday morning though. XD This fic was a lot of fun to write and post, so I'm glad you guys have enjoyed it. Please do review and let me know.

I might post Tony's list of personality quirks and a list of literary references in a few days. Several people have been asking for the former, and the latter I decided to do after a few people mentioned they weren't getting many (if any) of the references. That way, if you see something that interests you, you'll know where to find it. Other than that, I'll see you when I see you. So have the final quote of the chapter as we part. It's kind of a depressing one to end on, but it is one of my favorite poems.

"But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane,  
In proving foresight may be vain:  
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,  
Gang aft agley,  
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,  
For promis'd joy!"  
-Robert Burns, "To a Mouse"


End file.
